Stranger Danger
by Tawnykit
Summary: [on hiatus] When a strange woman shows up in his office making an outrageous claim, will Seto let the past get in the way? And when the only one he has ever cared about goes missing, will he learn to trust a “stranger?”
1. The Newspaper

Full summary: _Seto and Mokuba Kaiba have lived without their real parents for as long as the younger of the two can remember. They have never needed anyone but each other, not since their stepfather died. But Seto still remembers the past, albeit hazily at parts. When a strange woman shows up in his office making an outrageous claim, will Seto let the past get in the way? And when the only one he has ever cared about goes missing, can he learn to trust a "stranger?"_

Disclaimer: I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_, or any of the characters from said television program/manga series.

* * *

The newsstand was crowded – _very_ crowded. People from all over Domino City surrounded it. Excitement buzzed in the air, and shouts rang out as each individual fought to grab the next copy of the paper the stand was selling. 

The cause of the commotion was something fairly minor, as major news events go. Apparently, Kaiba Corporation had recently released its latest product, and every duelist in the city wanted to hear about it.

With so many people attempting to force their way to the front of the mass of enthusiasts, it was inevitable that a fight would break out. One young man grabbed a paper out of another's hands. A tug-of-war ensued. The newspaper was, of course, unable to hold under the strain they put it under; it ripped, scattering pieces of paper in all directions.

Most of the articles were snatched out of the air, but one, caught by a sudden gust of wind, escaped such a fate. It was carried up, high over the heads of the crowd. Several jumped up in a desperate attempt to catch it, to keep it from its freedom, but they were too late. The lone article raced over their heads, and, carried by the wind, flew on to a destination unknown. The mass of people below soon forgot about it; they had more important matters to attend to.

* * *

The stray piece of paper was carried half way across the city before slowly beginning its descent. It fluttered down to the ground and, still not fully released from the wind, rustled its way down a side street. Its journey was brought to an abrupt halt as it slammed into the foot of a middle-aged woman. She looked down at it, surprised, then bent down and absentmindedly picked it up. 

It would have been clear to any onlooker that she had once been a beautiful woman. She was in her mid- to late-forties, with long, graying brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Stress and lack of sleep had drawn wrinkles on her face, making her look older than she was. Crystal blue eyes gazed tiredly at the paper in her hands.

But there was no such onlooker. This woman was alone.

Suddenly, her hands clenched at the paper, and her eyes widened in shock. It was not the article that had caught her attention, but rather the picture underneath the bold headline:

**KAIBA CORP. RELEASES YET ANOTHER MASTERPIECE TO THE GAMING WORLD**

Beneath the title was a large picture of a man – no, a boy, really, perhaps seventeen years old. He stared back at her with hard blue eyes, his face cold and nonchalant. Short, brown hair of an identical shade to her own - minus the graying parts, of course - arced down and partially covered one eye. His lips were twitched up in a small, arrogant smile, perhaps more accurately described as a smirk. Though time had aged him from a child to the young man in this picture, it was a face that the woman still remembered.

"Seto?" She clutched at her heart, disbelief in her voice. "Seto?"

She stared at the photograph for a long moment more, then released the paper to float once again on the wind.


	2. Rejection

Disclaimer: I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_ or anything related to it, except this story, my other stories, and any others I may come to write.

* * *

Sitting in his office in the massive building that housed his company, Seto Kaiba, the young CEO of Kaiba Corporation and one of the most powerful men in Japan, gave an aggravated sigh, glaring at his computer screen. He'd been working nonstop since he'd arrived here from school – a waste of time, that; he already knew everything they were teaching – and, several hours later, he was only half done. 

He was about to get back to his tedious task when a beep from the speaker on his desk drew his attention. "Mister Kaiba?" His secretary's voice was hesitant; he'd left orders that he was not to be disturbed.

Biting back yet another sigh, he reached over and pressed the button that allowed him to speak to her.

"This is Kaiba."

"Sir, there's someone here to see you."

"What do they want?" He allowed a hint of annoyance to creep into his tone. He didn't have the time for this…

"I don't know sir. She wouldn't tell me. But she said it's urgent… I thought that…" The woman trailed off, clearly frightened by his voice.

"…Very well. Send her in."

* * *

In the waiting room outside Kaiba's office, a woman sat on the edge of her seat, praying for admittance. A woman with long, graying brown hair pulled back into a ponytail… 

She had decided to wait for a while before attempting to meet him. It had still been early in the morning when that stray article had found its way to her, her first solid evidence that he was here. He would have been in school then. Understanding that he had work he must complete, she waited longer still to make her way to his office.

She drew her coat tighter about her body and hunched her shoulders, feeling uncomfortable. She'd been waiting here for almost an hour, pleading with the stubborn secretary to be allowed to see the CEO. After a long argument, the woman had promised to page him and request that she be admitted. She strained her ears in an attempt to hear the conversation.

"…someone here to see you." She could just barely catch the secretary's voice.

Her heart leapt when she heard the reply. That was him, alright.

"What do they want?" _He sounds just like his father did when he was younger_, she mused to herself.

"I don't know sir. She wouldn't tell me. But she said it's urgent… I thought that…" Came the secretary's reply. She sounded frightened about something.

There was a pause, then, "Very well. Send her in."

She let out a small sigh of relief. _Thank goodness_…

She sat up straighter as the secretary replied, "Yes sir," and came over to speak with her.

"Mister Kaiba will see you now."

She gave the young woman a nod and stood to follow her to the door.

* * *

Kaiba did not raise his head as the stranger entered, though his senses were tuned into their every move in case they tried anything funny. He continued to stare at his computer screen, typing incessantly. 

"How can I help you?" he asked, still not looking up.

"I… Uh… That is to say…" A woman's voice answered him, sounding unsure of herself.

He did glance up now, very quickly, though his fingers didn't even slow their typing.

"I'm not a mind reader, ma'am. You need to speak. He returned his gaze to the screen.

"Yes, yes of course. Umm… Seto…"

Now he was starting to get irritated. He didn't like people who wasted his time. This woman's dawdling was accomplishing just that.

She'd also called him, "Seto." _No one_ called him by his first name. It was "Kaiba," to his equals, who were few, "Mr. Kaiba," or, "Sir," to his employees, and (as much as he hated the nickname) "Kaiba-boy," to that fool, Pegasus. The only exception was Mokuba, who was of course the exception to everything, and occasionally that midget Yugi Motou or one of his friends. Even that was rare, though. Just who did this woman think she was…?

"Why don't you start with a name." It was not a question, but an order.

"Yes, of course. My name is Joan."

* * *

_Oh dear_… This wasn't going the way Joan had planned at all. She had come prepared; she had known exactly what she wanted to say to him. Now that she was here, however, everything had fallen apart. Her mind was blank, and she struggled for a place to start. She was glad when he had provided the answer by requesting her name. 

She was also a bit disturbed by his attitude. He'd only looked at her once, for crying out loud! He seemed unable to tear his gaze away from the computer in front of him. His fingers appeared to have a life of their own; surely it was impossible for a human to move that fast!

She drew in a deep breath. _Enough hesitating. I've waited long enough. And he deserves to know the truth._

"Seto," she said, her voice a bit stronger after those preparing thoughts. "Seto, have you ever wondered… have you ever wondered what happened to your parents? Your _real_ parents?"

_That_ got his attention. He stiffened, and for the first time since she had entered his office, his fingers stopped their rapid tapping. He sat completely still, frozen in his shock.

After a long pause, he slowly raised his eyes to look at her. His voice, when he spoke, was hard, and perhaps a bit louder than necessary.

"They're dead."

"No. Your… your father is dead. Your mother is not." She took a step closer to his desk. "Seto," she said in a gentle voice, "I am your mother."

She watched him apprehensively. How would he take it?

There was a long, anxiety-filled pause, and then…

"Get out."

"What?" She was shocked. Why did he want her to leave? Why was his voice so hard, and his face so emotionless?

"I told you to get out." He stood up and came around the desk. His face wasn't emotionless now; he was quite clearly angry.

_But why_… "I don't understand!"

"I don't have time to waste with liars."

"I'm not lying!"

"Oh? That's _got_ to be the most _outrageous_ thing I've _ever_ heard." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "What reason do I have to believe you? My mother is dead; she has been for over ten years. Why should I believe a stranger who walks into my office at…" He glanced at his watch. "…8:36 at night, when I've got a lot of work to finish, and tells me she's a walking dead woman?"

"I'm not dead!"

"No, you're not. You're also not my mother."

She was about to protest, to make him listen to her, to get him to understand, when the door behind her cracked open.

"Seto?" A small voice questioned, as the person it belonged to pushed the door open further. "Seto, are you there?"

She turned around to see a boy about twelve years old peering around the door. His long black hair came down to his waist; he stared at her with wide gray eyes.

The CEO had also noticed the boy. "I'm right here, Mokuba. What do you need?"

_Mokuba!_

"Seto, who's this?" The boy stepped fully into the room now. She noticed that he held a tray balanced on one arm.

"…No one of importance. She was just leaving."

"I heard yelling…"

"It's nothing, Mokuba. Don't worry about it." Seto moved around her now, blocking her view of his brother. "What's the matter?"

The younger boy craned his head around the tall CEO to get a look at her, then shrugged and walked over to the desk.

"You didn't come home. I figured that if you were so busy, you wouldn't have taken time off to eat dinner." He set the tray down on the desk, then beamed at his brother. "I brought you some."

Seto walked over the desk, touched as usual by his brother's thoughtfulness.

"See, look, there's a sandwich – I made it all by myself, too – and an apple, and some coffee, and a…"

Seto stared down at the meal, listening to his brother happily chatter on. He reached out to pick up the sandwich, suddenly feeling a hunger he hadn't noticed earlier, before drawing away.

"…and look, I made you some cookies… Seto? What's the matter? Don't you like it?

"What do you say I eat this on the go?"

"…What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't think I'll be able to concentrate anymore on work tonight. Let's go home."

"You mean it?"

Seto nodded, and glanced around the room. He glared when he realized that Joan was still there.

She seemed to understand. She tore her gaze away from the two brothers (she'd been fascinated by how Seto's mood had changed whenMokuba had shone up, and proud of the way he treated the younger boy), looked at the floor, and slunk out.

Seto nodded again, dismissed the woman from his mind, and turned back to his eager brother.

"Let's go home, kid."


	3. A Typical Day

Disclaimer: I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_. Never have. Never will. Darn… Also, JRR Tolkien wrote _The Lord of the Rings_, whose second book (_The Two Towers_) Mokuba is reading after finishing his math test. The only part of said series that I own is the copy sitting up in my bookcase.

* * *

"And… checkmate." 

Mokuba scowled at his older brother. "No fair! You _always_ win!"

Seto smirked at the younger boy. They'd been playing chess since their returned from Kaiba Corporation Headquarters. It felt good to just relax with his brother for a change. But it was late, and they both had school the next day.

"C'mon! Let's play another! Maybe _this_ time I'll win!"

"Not tonight. Time to go to bed."

"Aww, but Seto…" Mokuba gave his brother the infamous "puppydog eyes," which he usually couldn't resist.

"Not this time, little brother. It's a school night, and it's already late."

"Puh-_lease_?"

"No." He made shooing gestures with his hands. "Go on."

The younger boy scowled again. "But you're gonna go to bed, too, right?"

"…"

"_Seto_…"

"Oh, all right. Come, we can both use a good night's sleep."

Mokuba glanced curiously at the CEO. Seto never came even this close to admitting he was tired. _Is something bothering him?_ With a start, Mokuba remembered the woman who had been in Seto's office earlier that night when he had brought him dinner. He was _sure_ that he had heard Seto yelling just before he came in - and it took a lot to rattle his brother into losing his cool and yelling.

"Is everything okay, big brother?"

Seto looked at the boy, surprised. "Everything's fine. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Just a feeling."

Seto gave him a half grin, half grimace. His brother almost seemed to have a sixth sense: the ability to detect how people, especially him, were feeling. He again reassured the twelve-year-old that he was fine, but as he followed him up the stairs, he couldn't help remembering that crazy woman who had come to his office earlier that night. He was more disturbed by the incident then he liked to admit. Not only had she made that abominable claim, but also there had been something… almost familiar about her. Something that tugged at the back of his mind, demanding his attention, when all he wanted was to forget about the whole thing.

He pulled a face behind Mokuba's back. No use dwelling on it now. He'd sent her on her way; hopefully, she would take the hint and leave him to forget about her.

He was jerked out of his musings by his brother's cheerful, "Good night!" He bid the boy good night in return, watched the door to tbe bedroom close, and headed down the hall to his own room.

He swiftly changed into pajamas, and with a tired sigh flopped down on the bed. He was asleep before his head had even touched the pillow.

* * *

_He was sitting in a warm, fire lit room. Shadowy figures that struck a cord in his memory – the same cord, he realized with the absentmindedness that always came with such dreams, that the stranger earlier had struck – drifted into and out of his vision. He saw that he was sitting on a couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, and that he was feeling a strange contentedness that he had not felt in many long years. He also noted that he was a lot smaller than he should be, younger than he was now. Another look around the room showed him a dog lying in front of the fire. The pup, a golden retriever, was yet another strangely familiar piece in this puzzle. He shook his head, trying to remember._

_There was a whimpering next to him; looking down, he saw his brother – also much younger, perhaps two years old – curled up at his side. The little boy was sound asleep. He smiled fondly, putting a hand on the child's head to chase away whatever bad thing had plagued his dreams and caused the mewl. The tiny body stirred, murmuring something unintelligible, before smiling and once again sleeping soundly._

_He grinned, happy to do him this small favor, when he was suddenly jerked into wakefulness by a loud blaring sound._

Seto sat up in his bed, blinking as he readjusted to his surroundings. Looking around, he saw that the source of the sound was his alarm clock.

_Alarm clock? Just what time is it, anyway?_ He almost never slept until his alarm clock woke him up. He automatically woke up at five o'clock a.m. every morning; the only reason he even bothered to set the clock was for days when he, for some generally nonexistent reason, overslept.

_Six o'clock_…_ Not a lot of time, then._ He scrambled out of bed, hurriedly showering and throwing on his school uniform before striding down the hall to Mokuba's room_. At least someone's still on schedule_, he thought wryly. He normally let his brother sleep until this hour, anyway.

He gave three sharp knocks on the door. "Mokuba! Time to get up."

There was a groan from inside the room.

Three more knocks. "Mokuba, I'm not kidding. It'ssix o'clock– time to get ready for school."

"Mmfff." From the sound of it, Mokuba had stuffed his head under the pillow in an attempt to drown out the sound of his older brother's knocking.

With a sigh, Seto opened the door. He stalked over to the boy's bed, grabbed the covers, and yanked them off.

"Ah! _Cold! Seto!_"

Seto smirked down at Mokuba's scowling face. "Are you up yet?"

"No," was the stubborn reply.

"Come on, Mokuba. You need to get ready for school."

With a melodramatic sigh, Mokuba rolled out of bed and stood up. "What's for breakfast?"

"Gruel," Seto said, keeping his face serious with practiced ease.

"Yippee, my favorite. C'mon, Seto, 'm serious."

"I haven't decided yet. Get dressed; if you hurry you can help me make it." Despite what one might think of someone with as much money as Seto Kaiba, he preferred to cook his own meals. They _had_ a cook of course, but only for when he was unable to make something himself – he was at the office and Mokuba needed dinner, or something like that.

Mokuba's cry of, "Yeah!" was somewhat hard to hear above the thumping of his footsteps as he ran off to do as he was bid.

* * *

Ten minutes later found the two brothers down in the kitchen, the sharp smell of cooking bacon wafting throughout the house. 

Mokuba was about to crack open a couple of eggs to add to the meal when Seto snatched them from his hands.

"Uh, why don't you let me do the eggs, Mokuba?" The memory of the _last_ time Mokuba had tried to make eggs was painfully sharp in his mind. That had been the first - and only - time either boy had been late for school. The entire kitchen, including the two of them, had been completely covered in gooey egg. It had taken a long time to clean that mess up, and an even longer time before Mokuba was allowed anywhere _near_ the kitchen again.

"Aww, c'mon Seto, I won't use the electric mixer this time, I promise…"

"Absolutely not." Seto cracked the eggs in a bowl and started to beat them with a whisk.

"Aww…"

There was a moment's pause, before, "Well, can I flip the bacon, then?"

* * *

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Mokuba was too busy stuffing his face and mentally reviewing for the math test he was having that day; Seto was pondering the dream that his alarm had woken him from. 

_Was it a dream? Or_…_ a memory?_ Something told him it was the latter. He shook his head, trying to recall more. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to bring the shadowy figures into focus. _Must have been too long ago_…

"Seto?" He looked at Mokuba, realizing that he had said something.

"I'm sorry, Mokuba. What did you say?"

"Are you okay? You've been acting strange lately."

"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine."

"…Okay. If you say so." After a pause, he continued, "I was just saying that we should leave for school now."

"Right. Get your things."

* * *

The conversation during the ride to Mokuba's school was fairly one-sided, with Mokuba chattering on and on about random subjects and Seto responding with an, "Uh-huh…" where it was required. 

"And I was wondering, do you think that… Oh, never mind, we're here. 'Bye, Seto!"

"See you later," Seto said as Mokuba sprung out of the limo.

* * *

_Let's see_…_ three x plus four equals five x_…_ Collect the variables_…_ And that's a coefficient, which is multiplication, so I want to do the reverse and divide_…_ Then_…_ x should equal two._

Mokuba looked over his work, satisfied that he'd answered every question on the test correctly so far. Just his luck that he had math first period, he had mused earlier. Glancing at the clock, he saw that he still had almost fifteen minutes to finish. For the three questions he had left, there was plenty of time.

_Okay_…_ Next problem's five x minus two_…

* * *

Even in school, Seto Kaiba didn't stop working. He was currently laboring on a document that he had meant to finish the previous night, had that woman not distracted him… 

He scowled. Even now, she wouldn't leave his thoughts! What was up with that, anyway? It's not like he believed her – his mother had died over ten years ago. It wasn't like–

Seto just barely got his fingers out of the way before the lid to his laptop came crashing down, folding in on itself. He glared at the teacher whose hands were resting up the top.

"Can I help you?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

"You can put this machine away and start paying attention!"

He slid his 'machine' out from under her hands, carefully opening it and checking for damage. Satisfied that there was none, he replaced it on the desk and glanced idly up at her.

"I was paying attention," he replied.

"Then _answer_ the _question_!" she hissed.

In a bored voice, Seto rattled off the answer to the question she had just asked the class. It was a skill he was quite proud of; teachers never expected him to be able to answer them correctly when he was working. With a triumphant smirk at her stunned face, he reopened his laptop and returned to work, fingers typing rapidly to make up for lost time. After a moment's pause, she stepped away from the desk and once again began lecturing the class.

* * *

The bell for next period rang throughout the hallways and classrooms, accompanied, at least in the algebra classroom, by the groans of students whose tests weren't quite finished. Mokuba, who had been done ten minutes before then, merely looked up from the book he was reading, dragged his mind away from the battle of Helm's Deep, collected his things, and brought his paper up to his teacher. 

"Wasn't that hard?" he heard one girl ask her friend.

"Yeah, I know. I couldn't get the answer to number five at _all_!" her friend agreed.

He heard similar things from around the room, various groups of friends chatting about how they thought they had done. He frowned sadly. The answer to number five, if he recalled, was "x equals twenty-one." It wasn't that which had him so down; he was fairly certain that he'd gotten that one right. It was the fact that they were talking to their friends. He didn't have any friends, at least not in school. Seto was his best friend, and Seto, of course, was too old to go to Junior High with him. Even Yugi Motou and his friends (who he liked, even if his brother despised) all went to a different school. It wasn't that he didn't meet people easily, or that he was a mean person; it was just that no one seemed to want to be friends with the vice president of the most powerful company in Japan. Perhaps they thought he would fire their parents if they made him angry or something, he didn't know. With a sigh, he handed his paper in and headed to his next class.

* * *

The rest of the day went much the same for Seto ashis first class had. He worked, the teachers questioned his ability to multitask, he proved them wrong, they ignored him for the rest of the class. Pretty much what he went through every day. The only difference, of course, was that he was never quite able to focus entirely on his work. His mind always jumped to the woman who claimed to be his mother. 

Lunchtime brought a much needed break. He never worked during lunch; the risk of spilling something on his computer was too great. If he wanted to continue working, he would skip lunch and go to the library. That's what he usually did, as a matter of fact. Today was different, though. He was looking forward to a break; his head had begun to ache from his many attempts to force himself to concentrate.

He put his computer away in his locker – again, it was too risky to eat around it. Not that he was a slob –just careful.

He made his way through the lunch line, wondering briefly about the nutritional value of the unappetizing… whatever it was they were serving. When he'd paid for his lunch, he found a table in the back corner where he could sit alone in peace.

"Hey! Hey, look, it's Kaiba! What are you doing here, Kaiba?"

"I go to school here, Yugi," he replied with as much patience as he could muster. So much for peace. He _did not_ want to talk with his rival right now. As a matter of fact, if he never had to speak with him again (outside of a duel, of course – he still needed to reclaim his title from him) he would be quite pleased indeed.

"Yeah, I know, but you usually spend lunch down in the library."

"Well, I'm obviously not down there today," he said, trying not to be impetuous.

"Oh. Well, do you want to sit with us then?"

"No."

"Are you sure? I'm sure no one will–"

"Quite sure."

"Oh. Well, okay. But if you change you mind and want some company, we're sitting over there." Yugi pointed. "'Bye, Kaiba!"

He responded with what in any other person could have been described as a grunt and returned to his meal.

* * *

Unlike his brother, if anyone had asked Mokuba to join their table, he would have been only too willing. He gazed sadly around the cafeteria. His day so far had been as uneventful as his brother's had been. School seemed to have a rhythm to it, he had noted once. The days were always fairly similar, and each melted together in his memory, creating one big, semi-monotonous section of his life that was labeled, "junior high." Shaking his head, he moved off to his usual table, in a corner next to a window where he could sit and think. 

With a rueful smile, he thought to himself, _Just another typical day in the life of the Kaiba brothers_…

Little did young Mokuba know, later that day, his life would be changed forever...


	4. Tragedy

Disclaimer: (points to website's name) Says it all there, folks. _Fan_fiction implies that I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_, nor am I likely to acquire it. Though I do own this story, and if there are any unfamiliar characters, I probably own them too.

* * *

Seto Kaiba was in a foul temper. He had not been able to concentrate on his work for the remainder of his time at school, and he was consequently behind on several projects that he had meant to have completed by now. That fool of a woman kept haunting his thoughts, refusing to leave him alone. To top it all off, he had the worst headache he could remember having in a _long_ time. 

He stalked down the halls at Kaiba Corporation Headquarters, heading towards his office in an attempt to get at least a little more work done. He hesitated outside of the door that led to the waiting room of his office. Voices. Never a good sign. _Who is it this time?_ he wondered. _Probably some businessman with a proposal that I'll have to turn down_…

He opened the door and froze upon seeing who was arguing with his secretary. A person that he had never wanted to see again, especially with the day he had just had. A person who he had been sure he had frightened away night before. A person who, despite what he told himself, a tiny part of his mind desperately wanted to speak with.

It was her.

* * *

_Countdown_…_ Five_…_ Four_…_ Three_…_ Two_…_ One_…_ And_… 

Mokuba smirked at the loud ringing that echoed through the building, soon followed by the sounds of the hundreds of children that attended Domino City Junior High School racing towards their freedom. As usual, his estimation of exactly when the school day ended was dead on. He stood up, following his peers to the door and allowing himself to be swept outside by their stampede.

When he reached the parking lot outside, he looked around expectantly for the limousine that was supposed to be waiting for him. It was nowhere to be seen.

He frowned. The limo was never late. One thing Seto valued was promptness; he would no more stand for his brother being picked up late from school that he would for being late to a business meeting.

After several more minutes of looking, he decided to walk home. He had been going to this school long enough to know the way that the limo took every day; perhaps he would meet up with it on the way. Even if he didn't, it was better than just sitting around waiting for it. He could call Seto when he got home, in case the chauffeur had indeed come by, missed him, and reported the incident to his brother. With a sigh, he left the schoolyard and started walking along the city streets. With his head bowed in thought, it was understandable that he didn't see the car that barreled around the corner, heading straight for him.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" 

Joan jumped, startled. She turned around to see a very angry Seto Kaiba glaring at her.

"I wanted to speak with–"

Another glare interrupted her. The young businessman glanced over her shoulder at the secretary she had been arguing with. "I thought I left explicate orders that I did not want to see her and that she was to be kept out of the building if at all possible."

"Y-y-yes s-sir. I-I was tr-trying to t-tell her that when y-you–"

"Enough," he growled. "Just get back to work. I'll handle this."

"Y-yes sir," the woman replied, hastily looking at her computer screen.

"You. Come with me."

Joan nodded and followed him into the office. She shut the door behind her. When she looked up, he was standing by the far wall, gazing out the window.

"What do you want?" his voice was hard.

"I told you last night."

"So you're still going with that lie? I'd have thought that when you realized that I didn't believe you, you'd tell me your real reason."

"That _is_ my real reason," she replied, trying to keep from losing her temper. How could he just turn he down without even thinking about what she was telling him?

"Indeed."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"I have no reason to. My parents – all of them – are dead. Very, very dead."

She shook her head in despair, hardly able to believe how stubborn he was being. Perhaps there was another way to get him to understand.

"How has your brother been doing?"

He jerked, replying in harsh tones. "You saw him last night."

"Yes. I was wondering if I might be able to speak with him."

Slowly, Seto turned to face her. She gasped at the look on his face. She had thought she had seen him angry before. She realized now that she had not. Mildly irritated, perhaps, that she wouldn't go away like he had told her to, but nothing like this. His emotionless mask had been discarded; the look on his face was one of such unbridled fury that she felt her blood run cold.

"No." His tone alone would have made a meeker person run for their lives. But Joan was not a meek person.

"Why not?" she pressed. "I just want to speak with him!"

"You're hoping to get Mokuba believing in this story of yours. He's young; he wouldn't know any better. Get my brother, and you think he'll be able to convince me, and you can follow through with whatever your real plan is. I'll have none of it. You stay away from him!"

"Why? I won't harm my own son, if that's what you're worried about!"

"Enough!" He slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, glaring daggers at her. "I've had enough of this! I don't believe a single word of your lie, and I won't have you poisoning my brother's mind and taking away whatever innocence he has left with your false hopes and crazy stories!"

"Seto!" She was losing control of her temper now. "I'm _not lying_!"

"All right. Let's just _pretend_ that I believe you. What do you want?"

She stared at him, stunned. "I'm… your mother, Seto. I just want to be with you."

"And do what? Live a nice, fancy life off of all your rich little boy's hard work? Embezzle a little of Kaiba Corp.'s money for your own use? Or will you be satisfied after throwing your weight around and convincing the government to remove Mokuba from my care and give him to you?"

She gaped at him. _So that's it. It's not that he just doesn't believe me – he's afraid to. He's afraid that I'll use him and everything he's worked so hard for. He's afraid that I'll try and remove his guardianship of Mokuba._

"Seto, I would never try to separate you from your family. That's the whole reason I'm here – I've been away from you boys for too long. I'm trying to bring our family together. And as for stealing money from you, I don't have any interest in–"

He snorted. "Yeah right." He shook his head, voice becoming angrier by the minute. "I've worked too hard to get where I am right now. I'm not letting some ghost from the past get in the way, not after everything I went through to get here. I won't let you take Mokuba away from me. And _furthermore_, I–"

He was interrupted by the phone ringing on his desk. With a growl and a few muttered words that she couldn't catch – probably just as well, judging from the mood he was in – he grabbed it and said, in a calm, cold voice that was so different from the look on his face, "Kaiba."

A moment's pause. "Yes, I am."

Another pause, and then his face visibly paled. His hand groped for the edge of the desk, and he grasped it for support.

Joan stared at him, afraid. _What's wrong?_ She soon had her answer.

"My brother?"

_Something happened to Mokuba!_ She gasped.

"How is he? …Yes. …Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can."

He slowly hung up the phone and stared unseeingly at it for a minute.

"Seto?" she asked hesitantly. "Seto, what's…"

Her voice snapped him out of the daze he had gone into. He reached over and hit a voice-over button on his desk.

"Yessir!" Came the hasty voice of his secretary.

"Inform Carlson that I want him and the limo ready to go five minutes ago." He didn't wait for a reply, fully expecting his order to be carried out. He swept out from behind his desk, brushing by her on his way to the door. "Get out of my way."

She stared after him for a while before coming to her senses and racing after him. She managed to catch up with him just outside the building, about to get into the black limousine that was waiting for him.

"Wait! Wait, Seto!"

He paused, glowering at her. "What do you want?"

"What happened? What's wrong? Is Mokuba alright?"

"The hell do _you_ care?" he growled.

"Of course I care! Is he all right?" Seeing the look that flashed in his eyes before being hidden under his once again calm exterior, she grabbed on to the sleeve of his trench coat, saying, "I'm coming with you."

He frowned, glaring at the hand on his sleeve. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

This could very well have developed into a long, tedious, full-scale, "am to, are not," type argument, but Seto didn't have time for that. "Look," he growled. "I don't have time to argue with you."

"Then let me come with you."

He hesitated before jerking his arm away from her, climbing into the waiting limo, and growling, "Get in."

With a sigh of relief, she slid in after him, gently closing the door behind her.

"Destination, sir?" the chauffeur, who she guessed must be the Carlson he'd mentioned, inquired as they buckled their seatbelts.

"Domino City Hospital."

The man gave a startled jerk. "The hospital, sir?"

"That's what I said. And hurry."

"Yes sir."

The ride to the hospital was tense. Joan wanted to ask him what had happened, but she decided that it would probably be better to leave him to his thoughts. She kept glancing at him, watching him stare stonily out the window.

When they arrived, Seto jumped out of the limo before it had even fully stopped, racing into the building without glancing back. Joan waited for the driver to park, hesitating before following the young CEO into the building. She had no idea what part of the hospital he had gone to.

"Come with me, ma'am. I'm sure we'll find him."

She looked up, surprised, as Carlson spoke to her. He smiled at her, not entirely sure who she was, but trusting that his boss knew what he was doing when he had allowed her to come with them.

"Thank you."

They hurried inside.

"You don't happen to know what happened, do you?" Carlson asked her.

She decided that she liked this man. He was very kind to offer to help her find his boss, and he was obviously concerned about him.

"I… don't know for sure, but I think… I think something happened to Mokuba."

He stopped short, gaping at her. "Master Mokuba is injured?" Distress caused him to be more talkative than usual, and, had she been able to see his eyes behind the shades he wore, she would have seen his worry.

"I'm not sure. But why else would he be so upset?"

"…You're right, ma'am. We should hurry."

They stopped at an information desk to inquire where Seto might have gotten to. The receptionist gave them directions to the waiting room she had sent him to a few minutes earlier.

When they arrived there, Seto was standing unmoving against the far wall, arms folded across his chest, head bowed in thought. Carlson moved to stand beside him, looking only as a worried chauffeur/bodyguard could. He glanced uncertainly at his employer's face and decided against disturbing the young man's thoughts to ask him what had happened.

Joan opted for one of the seats that the two men had ignored. She sat down slowly, feeling uncomfortable.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, admitting an elderly woman in a nurse's uniform. Joan looked up, glad for the disturbance. The silent tension in the room had been getting unbearable for her.

Her two companions also looked up, Seto's cold eyes demanding information.

The nurse looked around the room, bespectacled gaze eventually settling on Seto, whose presence was the most commanding of the three. Though she had chosen him as a focusing point, her question was directed at them all.

"Is one of you the parent of Mokuba Kaiba?"

Joan's heart sank. Though she hadn't been able to think of another explanation for Seto leaving work and coming to a hospital, she had still held onto the small hope that Mokuba was not the reason.

She stirred slightly, answering the nurse's question. "I'm–"

Seto cut her off, shooting a hate-laden glare in her direction. "If you mean who is his _legal guardian_, that would be me."

The nurse looked startled at this, looking from Seto to Joan and back again, while Carlson, astounded that this stranger had started to answer the question, turned his own surprised gaze to her.

"…Oh," the nurse said after a pause. "Well then." She shifted from foot to foot, thrown off her balance after the brief exchange. She cleared her throat, about to speak, when Seto stepped over to her.

"Look," he growled. "I want answers, and I want them now. You're going to tell me what _exactly_ happened, not just the shortened version I got on the phone. You're going to tell me my brother's current condition, and you're not going to sweeten it up and try to make it sound better than it is, like I'm sure you've been told to do. I know better; the imbecile on the phone certainly didn't make it sound like Mokuba's in a good enough condition to walk out of here tonight. And you're going to tell me if those incompetent fools you call doctors think that he's going to survive this."

The nurse quailed. Seto waited a few moments for her to speak, before barking, "Now!"

She flinched, not meeting his gaze, and spoke. "Your brother is in critical condition. He–"

"I _know_ that. Tell me something useful, or go away. _Is my brother going to live?_"

She gave him a glare of her own now. "I was getting there," she said icily. "Now if I may continue?" Not waiting for a reply, she repeated. "Your brother is in critical condition. It is not likely that he will survive the night."


	5. No More to Run

Disclaimer: (cackle) All right, I admit it! I own_ Yu Gi Oh!_. And you. And the ENTIRE WORLD! Or… maybe I don't. Maybe it's all just a figment of my imagination. Maybe you should read the story instead of worrying about who owns what on a _fan_fiction website.

* * *

The entire room went deathly still, frozen in time. All eyes were focused on Seto, wondering how he would take this news. 

He was staring, unseeing, in front of him. Very slowly, his hand crept up to grasp the card locket that hung around his neck. "Little brother…" he murmured, the sound so quiet it was almost inaudible.

After a long moment, he drew his attention back to the nurse. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hard. "All I was told was that there had been an accident."

The nurse replied in a voice that lacked sympathy. Apparently, she was still insulted from his earlier attitude. "He was hit by a car, walking home from school."

"'Walking home from school.'" Seto repeated. He looked at Carlson. "Carlson. Why was my little brother walking home from school?"

Carlson looked puzzled. "I sent someone to pick him up, sir. I would have gone myself, but something came up…" He glanced at Joan and the nurse, indicating that they shouldn't talk about company business in front of strangers.

Seto nodded. He turned his attention back to the nurse. "Do you think he'll make it?"

She frowned. "He's unconscious. If he doesn't wake up… he doesn't have a chance."

"…I see. May I see him?"

She pursed her lips. "I don't see the harm in it. Third door on the right."

Seto nodded again. With a gesture at Carlson to follow him, he stalked out the door that she had come in through.

The nurse stepped in front of Carlson as he tried to pass. "Only family allowed, sir."

Carlson looked helplessly at the teenager that he was supposed to guard. Seto turned back, glaring at the nurse. "He's with me."

"But the rule is–"

Carlson frowned, Seto glared, and she bit off the complaint. She didn't want trouble with Seto Kaiba. "Or… I could make an exception." Carlson gave her a curt nod and followed Seto out the door, neither of them looking back.

As the door swung shut behind him, Joan stood up with every intention to follow. She, too, was stopped by the now rather frazzled looking nurse.

"Only family allowed," she was told in a firm voice, the nurse obviously not intending to allow the rules to be broken again.

Joan stared at her for a long minute, wondering exactly how much to tell this stranger. She settled on the truth – anything to gain entrance.

"I'm his mother." Her voice was soft, willing the other woman to understand.

Apparently, she did. After only a moment, during which she was probably remembering the brief argument Joan had had with Seto earlier (and connecting it with this new piece of information), she gave a small smile, nodded her head, and stepped out of the way.

* * *

Carlson stared in dismay at the scene laid out before his eyes. In the corner of the small, completely white room was a bed that was far too large for the frail, still figure huddled under its sheets. If it weren't for the heart monitor beeping loudly next to the bed, he wouldn't have believed the boy to be alive. _Oh, Master Mokuba_… he thought in anguish. 

He shot a glance at his boss, standing rigidly next to him. He blinked at the expression on the boy's face. Mr. Kaiba looked… lost. He couldn't remember ever seeing Mr. Kaiba look lost before.

"Sir?" he asked hesitantly.

Mr. Kaiba drew in a breath, tearing his gaze away from the sorry form of his younger brother. The lost look didn't leave his face, and for the first time, Carlson remembered that he was only seventeen years old. Seeing the dying form of the only family he had known for most of his life had driven the cold-hearted CEO away, leaving a mind too numb from shock to do much of anything without help.

Well, Carlson could provide that help. It was, after all, his job.

"Go see him, sir," he prompted.

Mr. Kaiba shuddered, nodded once, and the CEO was back. He walked over to his brother's bedside, pulled over a stool, and sat down, gently taking the younger boy's hand. Carlson could hear him murmuring to him, trying to call him out of the darkness of unconsciousness.

He folded his arms behind his back, prepared to wait as long as he had to, when the door behind him opened again. He spun around, wondering who _dared_ to come in and disturb his charges. He was surprised to see the woman who had come with them to the hospital, accompanied by the nurse from earlier.

He looked over to see if Mr. Kaiba had noticed. If he had, he was ignoring them.

He turned back to the newcomers. The nurse, he supposed, he couldn't stop. She was personnel here – even if she had upset his boss so much.

As for the stranger…

"Excuse me," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the Kaiba brothers. "Can I help you?"

"No," she replied. "Thank you." She took a seat near the door, seeming content to observe the young businessman tend to his brother.

The nurse brushed by him, coming to stand next to Mr. Kaiba. "He won't wake." Her voice was sympathetic, which surprised Carlson. He had gotten the impression that she hadn't liked his boss very much.

Mr. Kaiba ignored her, if he had even registered her presence. He seemed to have gone into a trance, Carlson noted. What was it the nurse had said? 'If he doesn't wake up…' Was it possible that Mr. Kaiba could really call the boy back?

The nurse sighed impatiently. Carlson's jaw twitched in annoyance. So he hadn't been mistaken. _As if she could ever understand Mr. Kaiba_, he thought, annoyed.

"Look, sir…" the nurse began, before gaping in astonishment. Carlson immediately focused his attention on the bed, and he sensed the stranger do so, as well. Had Master Mokuba… just stirred?

Mr. Kaiba's urgings became more determined, desperately pleading with his brother. "Come on, kid," Carlson heard him say. "You can do it…"

With a small, pitiful groan, Master Mokuba's eyes opened.

"But how… That's impossible!" The nurse was shocked.

Mr. Kaiba squeezed the boy's hand, smiling gently. "Hey kid. How're you feeling?"

Master Mokuba's eyes were wide, his voice almost to soft to hear. "Seto…"

Carlson gave a small, pleased smile. He walked over to the nurse, pulling her away from the brothers. He headed for the door, indicating for the two women to follow him. They did so, leaving the Kaiba brothers alone as the door shut behind them.

* * *

It was dark. Dark, and cold. Mokuba had been in a place like this once before, and the experience had been terrifying.. He cried out, but no sound came. "Seto! Seto, where are you?" He dropped to his knees, sobbing. He couldn't remember what had happened. All he knew was that it was dark, and he was cold. 

Then he heard it.

"Little brother?"

A voice – a very familiar voice – was calling to him.

"Big brother?" he called out hopefully. He stood, straining his ears. There it was again!

"Mokuba." The call was faint, as if he was hearing it from very far away, but it was there.

He began to run, hope catching hold of him. Seto was calling him! Showing him the way!

"Come on, kid," the voice urged. "You can do it…"

There was a blinding white light in front of him, but he kept on running, towards the light, towards his brother…

He opened his eyes.

Seto's face swam above his head before his eyes focused.

There was a brief pressure on his hand. "Hey kid. How're you feeling?"

"Seto…" He was dimly aware of people leaving the room, and thought he identified one as Carlson. He closed his eyes tiredly.

"Mokuba? Mokuba! Hey, stay with me, kid." Seto sounded urgent.

"Seto…?"

"Mokuba, don't go back to sleep. Please, don't go back to sleep."

Unused to hearing his brother plead, Mokuba forced his eyes back open. He tried to speak, but only succeeded in making a dry, croaking sound. He cleared his throat, licked his lips, and tried again, managing to rasp, "Thirsty."

"Here." A cup was held to his lips, and he drank greedily. Cold water soothed his dry throat.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, Mokuba. There… was an accident."

"Accident…" He frowned, trying to remember.

"You were hit by a car, kid," Seto supplied the answer, filling the gap in his memory. He shivered, remembering.

"…Walked home from school… No one… came to get me…. Car… Car!" He struggled to sit up, panicking as he remembered the car that had shot around the corner and slammed into him, throwing him into oblivion.

Seto hurriedly placed his hands on his shoulders, gently forcing him to lie back down. "It's all right, Mokuba, calm down. There's no car here, it's gone, just lie back down."

Confused and upset, Mokuba shivered, starting to cry. Seto embraced him, trying to soothe him.

When he had calmed down enough to speak, he looked at Seto with big gray eyes. "Seto… Am I going to die?"

He saw his brother hesitate, and fear gripped him. "I don't want to die, Seto."

Seto sat back in the chair, taking his brother's hand again. "You're not going to die, little brother. I won't let you."

Mokuba smiled, some of his fear leaving him. "Thanks, Seto."

Seto smiled back. "No problem, kid."

* * *

Joan looked up as the door to the room opened. A doctor, who had been in to examine Mokuba after being alerted that he had awakened, stood in the doorway. 

"Well?" Carlson, standing erect on the other side of the door, asked.

The doctor looked at him, sighing. "He has a chance. That's really all I'm in a position to say."

The black-suited man nodded, his expression hidden by the dark shades that he refused to take off, even inside.

"Can we… go back in?" Joan asked.

"Well… I suppose that's up to Mr. Kaiba… But I don't see why not."

Carlson walked over to the door. The doctor stood aside to let him in. "Mr. Kaiba?"

"Come in, Carlson." Seto sounded tired.

The man obeyed. Joan hesitated, then followed him.

"He fell asleep a little while ago, while the doctor was examining him," Seto was saying as she entered.

"It's been a stressful day for him, sir."

Seto nodded.

Carlson paused, before saying, "It's been a stressful day for you, too, sir, hasn't it?"

"…"

"Mr. Kaiba, perhaps–"

"I'm not going home, Carlson, if that's what you're getting at."

"Sir?"

"I'm staying with Mokuba. He needs his brother here."

"But, sir… The company…"

"Is not as important as my brother's life. Kaiba Corp. can wait for me."

"Sir, you know that's not true. The company will fall apart without you there."

"I'm not leaving, Carlson."

There was a moment of tense silence as the young CEO glared down the worried bodyguard. Joan fidgeted, wondering if she should say anything.

Seto closed his eyes, deep in thought. "Carlson, go back to Kaiba Corp. and bring my laptop, briefcase,and anything else that looks like it might be needed. Ask my secretary if you want to be sure of what's important." He opened his eyes. "I won't leave my brother. But there's no reason to desert the company. I'll work from here."

"Yes sir." Carlson sounded relieved. "Sir… What about…" Joan tensed as he gestured at her.

Seto looked at her, his eyes hardening. "You're still here?" Not waiting for her answer, he said, "Take her home, Carlson."

"Home, sir?"

"Her home. I don't want her here."

She opened her mouth to protest, having had just about enough of his attitude, but Carlson spoke first.

"Yes sir."

He walked over to her, taking her arm and gently pulling her toward the door. She thought of resisting, but decided against it. Now was not the time to force herself on either of her sons.

"Before you go," came a voice just outside the room, "there's something I have to tell you." All three of them looked up to see the doctor who had let Joan and Carlson into the room earlier, still standing in the doorway.

He stepped further into the room, glancing at Mokuba, then at Seto. "He's still sleeping, isn't he?"

Seto nodded.

"Good. He should hear this from one of you, not from a doctor he barely knows. You… may want to sit down," he said, looking at Joan and Carlson. Joan did so; Carlson remained standing.

"What's going on?" Seto asked.

The doctor rubbed his face tiredly; he hated giving this kind of information. "We didn't want to tell you before… not when we weren't even sure he would make it. We didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. But I'm pretty sure he'll pull through, as long as he makes it through the night." He sighed, looking at Seto. "When the car hit your brother, it damaged his spinal cord. There is a very real possibility that he will never walk again."

Joan gasped; even Carlson, trained to show no emotion, looked shocked. Seto was staring into space, not paying attention to them.

"…Mr. Kaiba?" the doctor asked. He stepped cautiously over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. The sudden contact broughtthe teenout of his reverie; he jerked, shoving the hand away.

"But he was awake earlier," he said, voice hard, not wanting to believe. "Wouldn't he have noticed not being able to move half of his body?"

"Not necessarily. He was very weak then, and confused from the shock of everything that's been happening to him. He wasn't paying attention to his legs; his brain was struggling to understand everything else." The man sighed again, seeing the stubborn look on the businessman's face. It was obvious that he would not believe it until his brother had reawakened and confirmed it.

"Just keep it in mind, Mr. Kaiba." The doctor began to shuffle out of the room; he paused before he left. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Seto stared absently out the window, not really thinking about anything in particular. Carlson had left, taking Joan with him, and returned with Seto's laptop and briefcase. That had been several hours ago.The goonwas now standing guard just outside the door. The last time Seto had checked the clock, it read 1:33 am. He didn't care. He was waiting for Mokuba to wake up. 

He sat without moving, without thinking. Another hour passed, and still he waited. He would wait 'til the end of time, if he had to. Time was of no concern to him.

A faint noise from the bed caused him to sit up straight, focusing his attention on his no longer sleeping brother. Gray eyes greeted him sleepily.

"Hey, kid," he said, brushing the dark bangs away from the boy's forehead. They fell stubbornly back into place.

"Hey, Seto."

"How do you feel?"

Mokuba grinned ruefully. "I hurt."

"Understandable."

Seto watched him closely, the doctor's words coming back to haunt him. '…never walk again,' that was what he had said. But surely Mokuba would have noticed…

Mokuba stretched as well as he could in the hospital bed. Suddenly he froze, eyes confused. Seto's blood ran cold.

After a long pause, during which Mokuba's eyes grew wider and wider in alarm, he turned to his older brother. "Seto… Seto, I can't… I can't feel my legs. Or move them…"

Seto closed his eyes, as if in pain. He reached out, embracing the little boy. "I know, Mokuba," he said. "I know."

* * *

A/N: (rubs hands gleefully) Aren't I evil? I've been working with this idea for a long time. Actually, it came about when I read two separate pieces about Seto becoming blind in the same week. They were both very good stories, mind; I enjoyed reading them. But it didn't seem fair to me to always pick on Seto. Then I started to wonder how he would react if something happened not to him, but to his brother. I'd also been toying with the idea of what would happen if one of their parents came back, and on a whim I combined the two. I'm looking forward to this! 

Oh, by the way, Mokuba's new handicap isn't going to be the main focus of everything. It's very important, and plays into the plot perfectly – but I'm taking this story to different places. Oh, we're going places… (evil cackle)

Oh, and before I get bombarded with rotten vegetables thrown by hoards of angry Mokuba fans out for my blood… (bow) I'm sorry. I love Mokuba, too, but I had to do it.


	6. Strong Like a Blue–Eyes

Disclaimer: Gah, I'm too lazy to be imaginative today. No, I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_.

* * *

Carlson stood just outside the door, hands clasped behind his back, prepared to wait all night if need be for news on Master Mokuba's condition. He had returned from his errands several hours earlier and had been waiting here since. 

He could hear muffled sobbing coming from inside. He wondered briefly which of the Kaiba brothers was making the sound, then decided that he didn't really want to know.

As he waited, he thought back to the rather interesting conversation he had had with the woman Joan as he brought her to her home. It still made his head spin to think about it.

* * *

_Flashback:_

_She hadn't wanted to leave, it was clear. He hadn't wanted to take her away, not after the long, sad look she had given his boss, but orders were orders, and he did his job. She didn't resist as he took her arm and pulled her away._

_Then the doctor had come in, and delivered the news that Master Mokuba might be permanently handicapped. A sense of cold horror had come over him; he couldn't even imagine how Mr. Kaiba was probably feeling._

_They left after recovering from the shock as well as they could. He led her down to the parking garage where he had left the limousine. He hesitated before opening the door to the back seat for her. He wasn't supposed to ask questions, but he doubted that she would tell anyone if he did._

"_Excuse me, ma'am… but could you tell me your name?"_

"_It's Joan," was her reply. Well, at least he had a name to go with the face. It wasn't much use to him, but it was something._

_They exited the parking garage, and he got on the highway. The only words spoken were Joan giving him directions to her apartment, but he couldn't stop himself from glancing back at her in the rearview mirror from time to time. Why did Mr. Kaiba hate her so?_

_She startled him when she said, "You want to know why Seto acted the way he did, don't you?" She must have noticed him looking at her._

"_Well_…_ yes. Mr. Kaiba's never really a warm person, except with Master Mokuba, but I've never seen him act that way before. And I've known him for a long time."_

_He saw her hang her head before he returned his attention to the road. "He hates me," she said softly._

"_I could see that, ma'am. Do you know why?"_

_She had stared at him for a long time, as if weighing him up, deciding if he was worthy to know her secret. He could feel her eyes boring into him even with his own eyes fixed firmly on the road, not watching her. Finally, she spoke. "He is my son."_

_His hand slipped on the steering wheel, he was so shocked. He swore as the limousine swerved into the next lane andquickly straightened them out. There had been enough accidents tonight; he didn't want to add another one._

_Glaring at the many blaring horns all around them, reprimanding him for mistake, he pulled over to the side of the road. When the vehicle was safely pulled out of the way of oncoming traffic, he turned around to face her._

"_He's your **what**?"_

_She gave him a steady look, not seeing any reason to repeat herself._

_Carlsonswore again. He generally tried to keep from such obvious shows of what he was feeling – it didn't befit one of Mr. Kaiba's goons – but today had been a little too stressful for him to handle._

"_That's impossible," he protested. "I've known Mr. Kaiba ever since he was adopted by Gozaburo. His parents are dead."_

"_It's a complicated story, Carlson. But I'm not lying."_

_He stared at her for a long time. He prided himself at being an excellent judge of character, and something was telling him that she was speaking the truth._

"_I believe you," he said finally. "And I can understand why Mr. Kaiba's so upset."_

_She hung her head again. "As can I. But it wasn't completely my fault that I was away for so long–__"_

"_That's not entirely what I meant," he interrupted. "Mr. Kaiba doesn't like havin_'_ people suggest to him that the world might not be the way he's always thought it was. It takes a long time to convince him of somethin_'_ that goes against what he feels is fact. In all honesty, ma'am, he's prob'ly afraid of you, as much as anythin_'_."_

_He had received silence at this comment, but he thought he saw a glimmer of recognition in her eyes._

_He had brought her home then, but not before deciding to do everything in his power to reunite the Kaiba brothers with their lost family._

_End Flashback.

* * *

_

Carlson's thoughts were disturbed by the sound of the door behind him opening. He turned around to Mr. Kaiba standing in the doorway.

"Carlson," the CEO said. Carlson did his best to ignore the rasp in his voice, and he pretended not to see the tearstains onthe boy'sface.

"Yes sir?"

"Inform the…" he stopped, as if continuing was too painful. Fear coursed through Carlson. What could be so bad that Mr. Kaiba could say it? Surely, Master Mokuba hadn't…

"Inform the doctors that my brother has reawakened."

Relieved as he was that his fears hadn't been proven correct, Carlson still needed to ask one last thing. "Sir… What about…?" He couldn't finish.

Mr. Kaiba knew what he was trying to say. He shook his head. "No, Carlson. He can't."

Carlson closed his eyes as his boss returned to his brother. So the doctor had been right. Master Mokuba's spinal cord had indeed been permanently damaged. He would never walk again.

He sighed. He didn't want to think about what this would mean for the boy. He didn't want to think about what it would mean for Mr. Kaiba, either. He had been given a job to do: fetch the doctors and inform them that Master Mokuba had woken up. He would focus on that, instead.

He set off down the hall in search of the nearest doctor.

* * *

Seto closed the door softly behind him, walking back over to his brother's bedside. Mokuba's eyes were wide and filled with tears, his expression one of stark terror. 

"Carlson is going to fetch a doctor, Mokuba. We'll see what they can do."

"B-but they _will_ be able to do something, right Seto? Right?"

Seto gave him a bleak look, not sure how to answer. "They'll do everything they can, Mokuba."

Panic overtook the little boy. _Seto doesn't think they're gonna be able to do anything! He thinks I'm gonna be stuck like this forever and ever! _He burst into tears, overwhelmed by everything that had happened to him that day.

Seto reached over, hugging him. "Shh… It'll be okay, kid, I promise you. Whatever happens, it'll be okay."

"But you don't think they'll be able to fix me, do you, Seto? You don't think they'll be able to make my legs work again," he sobbed.

"I don't know, little brother. I really don't. There might be something they can do. But if there isn't, I promise you I will do everything I can to make sure you are just as happy as you were before. I promise."

"'M scared, big brother. I'm so scared…"

"…I am too, kid."

This startled him. "But you never get scared!"

"Sure I do. All the time. I just try not to show it."

"Really?"

Seto nodded.

"I wish I didn't get scared. I wish that…"

"Yes?" his brother prompted.

"…I wish that this had never happened."

"Me, too. But it did, and we have to be strong now."

"Strong like a Blue-Eyes?"

Seto smiled at the reference to his favorite Duel Monsters card. "Yes, Mokuba. Strong like a Blue-Eyes White Dragon."

"Do you think that the Blues-Eyes ever gets scared?"

Seto paused, thinking the question over. "I don't know. It doesn't appear to. But maybe it just hides it very well."

"But no matter what, it's always strong, right Seto?"

"Right."

Suddenly, they heard the sound of voices outside the doorway. Carlson had returned with the doctor.

Mokuba stiffened, fear taking hold of him again. Seeing this, Seto bent forward and murmured to him. "Remember, kid. Strong like a Blue-Eyes."

Mokuba nodded, watching the handle to the door turn as the person on the other side opened it. _Strong like a Blue-Eyes White Dragon, _he repeated to himself.

The door opened. _Like a Blue-Eyes_…

The doctor stepped inside.

He would do his best to be strong, for his brother's sake. He didn't want Seto to see him scared. _I will be strong like a Blue-Eyes White Dragon_…

He repeated the phrase over and over to himself as the white-coated doctor stepped over to him.

"Well, hello, Mokuba. How are you feeling?"

_Strong like a Blue-Eyes._


	7. Home Again

Disclaimer: If I owned _Yu Gi Oh!_, I'd be as rich as Seto Kaiba himself, and laughing at all of you. Well, maybe not _that_ rich, but pretty darn close!

* * *

_He was dreaming again. He knew right from the start that he was dreaming. He felt exactly as he had the previous time, when he had remembered sitting with Mokuba in a fire lit room. The haziness in the air was exactly the same, the figures just as shadowed._

'_Another memory,' he thought. 'What is it this time? And why am I just remembering now?'_

_He looked around him. He appeared to be in a park. His body was that of a very small child, perhaps four or five years old._

"_Seto!" a voice startled him. It was vaguely familiar, triggering a memory that felt far more recent than he was sure either of his dream/memories took place._

"_Seto, here you are," the voice said. He turned his head to see who was calling him, when he suddenly froze. He thought he knew who the voice belonged to._

'_It can't be!' he mentally screamed. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and startled awake._

"No!" he sat bolt upright, eyes flying open. Breathing heavily, eyes wide, he looked wildly around the room, searching for the voice.

"Sir? Mr. Kaiba, are you alright?" Carlson's anxious voice brought him back to reality. It was the goon's hand on his shoulder that had awakened him.

He took a deep breath, calming his nerves. Finally, he spoke. "I'm fine, Carlson."

"Bad dream, sir?" The man's voice was sympathetic.

He grunted, rubbing his temples. "What time is it, Carlson? How long have I been asleep?"

"Not too long, sir. It's only a little past midnight. You dozed off just after Master Mokuba finished dinner."

Seto nodded. He remembered now. He had been especially tired earlier that night, and, though he had tried to fight it, he hadn't been able to stop himself from slipping into slumber.

It was a little over a month after Mokuba had been hit by the car, and he was being released from the hospital the next day. Seto had stayed with him the entire time, workingfrom the little boy's bedside, talking to him when he was awake, and trying to comfort his fears. His brother was afraid, Seto knew. They both were. Neither knew exactly what was going to happen next.

They had both been through a lot in the past few weeks. Doctor after doctor had inspected his brother, trying to find some proof that he may yet walk again. They had even tried surgery at one point, when they were sure that he'd recovered from the accident enough that such a move wouldn't endanger him.

Nothing. There was nothing they could do. Mokuba would never walk again.

Seto was determined that his little brother would in no way be hampered by his new disability. The Kaiba mansion already had an elevator, as did both Kaiba Corporation Headquarters and Seto's personnel laboratory. He had ordered a ramp to be put in next to their front porch so that Mokuba wouldn't have any trouble entering or exiting their home. He would do anything he possibly could to make the boy's new way of life easier for him. He just didn't know how he could help him to recover from the emotional aspect of what had happened.

Mokuba was taking it badly. That was understandable, of course, but that didn't make it any less painful to watch. He had tried to be strong at first, he really had, but lately he had become quiet, not bubbling over with chatter as he usually was. His appetite had dropped, and Seto had noticed that the shine in his brother's eyes had all but vanished. He cried himself to sleep every night, and nothing Seto said seemed to comfort him.

Seto was worried about him. He had never seen his brother become so lackluster, not even after everything that had happened to them in the past.

He looked over at the black-headed form huddled in the bed next to him. He could only hope, he knew, and that was what killed him. He hated being helpless. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair and waited for the sun to rise.

* * *

"Don't do this, little brother." 

Seto looked down at the stubborn twelve-year-old glaring at him from under the covers. He couldn't believe that Mokuba was being so difficult about this.

"Nuh-uh. I won't!"

"Look, kid, I know you're upset about this, but there's nothing either of us can do about it. You might as well get used to it."

Mokuba shifted his glare from his brother's face to the nurse standing in the doorway. Or rather, to the wheelchair that was sitting in front of her.

This had been the scene in the small, white hospital room for the past fifteen minutes. Mokuba had finally been discharged, but the boy was still having trouble adjusting to the idea of needing to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. He had refused to get into the chair when the nurse came to bring him down to where Carlson was waiting to take them home.

"Mokuba…" Seto said, a growl barely audible in his voice.

The boy looked up at his older brother, his eyes large and pleading. "I can't, Seto, I can't…"

"…I don't understand, Mokuba. Why can't you? Don't you want to go home?"

"It's not that. It's just…"

"You're scared?"

He nodded, eyes downcast.

Seto crouched down next to the bed, looking his brother in his eyes. "You don't need to be. It'll be alright. You'll see."

"...You promise?"

Seto nodded. "I promise. Now… I've just about had it with this place. What do you say we go home?"

Mokuba hesitated, then smiled sadly and allowed them to help him into the wheelchair.

No one spoke during the trip to the main entrance, where Carlson and the limousine were patiently waiting. Mokuba sat with his head bent and his shoulders hunched, not looking up at the various people scattered around the hospital. He didn't want to see their stares.

He was relieved when they finally reached the long, black car that was waiting for them. Carlson opened the door for him, and Seto helped him into the back seat. Mokuba made a note right then and there to learn how to enter and exit the car by himself. He didn't want to need to be helped anymore than was necessary.

He buckled his seatbelt as Seto got in the other side. "All right there, kid?"

He nodded. What else could he say?

Carlson got into the driver's seat, glanced at the two boys via the rearview mirror, and turned on the engine.

The ride to the Kaiba mansion seemed to take forever, in Mokuba's mind, but in reality it was little more than fifteen minutes before they were pulling into the long driveway.

He waited impatiently for Carlson to get the wheelchair out of the trunk. They had had to borrow one from the hospital for now, though Seto had already made an appointment to get a custom-made one. That would take some time, however, and until then, Mokuba would have to make do with the slightly wobbly affair that was typical Domino City Hospital stock.

He gritted his teeth as he was once again helped into the chair, mentally cursing the event that had done this to him.

He was about to wheel himself up to the front porch when he felt someone start to push him; looking up, he saw his brother holding onto the chair's handles.

"Seto, don't!"

Seto, hearing the anger in the boy's voice, immediately let go. "What's wrong, kid?"

"I can do it myself!"

Seto blinked, but didn't let any other sign of his surprise show. "Very well, Mokuba. My apologies."

Mokuba glared at him, suddenly feeling very angry. "Just leave me alone!" he shouted, and began furiously wheeling himself towards the ramp to the front door. It was unlocked, do to the various staff who were in the mansion on any given day; he wrenched it open, flung himself through, and raced towards the elevator.

"Wait, Mokuba!" he heard his brother call, but he ignored him as the elevator doors swung shut. He clumsily turned himself so that he could press the button for the second floor, where his bedroom was located.

He waited impatiently for the lift to reach its destination. His heart twisted after he tried to tap his foot impatiently, only to be rudely reminded that he could no longer do so.

Finally, the doors slid open, and Mokuba charged through them. He reached his bedroom, threw open the door, and hurdled inside.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Mokuba bent over, breathing heavily. It was hard work, and his arms were unconditioned to being used in this way. His fingers were sore from the many times he had accidentally hit them on the wheels, and the muscles in his arms ached from the strain. Feeling completely miserable, he wheeled towards his bed. He had some difficulty climbing into it, but after several attempts he managed to curl up on top of the covers.

Angrily, he slammed his fist into the pillow before sagging down and burying his face in it. _Why me?_ he thought, tears running unwanted down his face._Why does stuff like this always happen to me?_ He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking, and never noticed when he fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Seto Kaiba stared at the elevator doors, which had just swung closed, swallowing his brother like a great silver monster. His face was expressionless, but his heart was in turmoil. He didn't understand why something like this had to happen to his innocent baby brother. 

He heard Carlson come up hesitantly behind him. "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, sir. Just give him time. He needs to adjust." The goon's voice was gentle as he addressed his employer.

Seto waited a long time before answering. "I hope you're right, Carlson. I really, really hope you're right."

* * *

A/N: Whew! Finally finished with this chapter! Took me long enough, didn't it? It's a bit short, but that's just 'cause it's just setting up for next chapter. 

Speaking of which… Things are going to start heating up very soon. (evil grin)

Anyone know any synonyms for "wheeled?" This is going to get awfully redundant if I have to keep saying, "Mokuba wheeled here," or, "Mokuba wheeled there." It's not like I can say he walked somewhere, is it?

Oh, before I forget… See the nice, shiny button down there? The one that says, "Submit Review?" Well, maybe if enough people let me know what they think, I'll feel so guilty that I'll _have_ to get up the next chapter soon! You never know; it's worth a try!


	8. Plans

Disclaimer: I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_, or Seto Kaiba, or Mokuba Kaiba, or the Blue Eyes White Dragon, or Mississippi, or the moon, or one million dollars, or the Pacific Ocean, _or_ the Golden Gate Bridge. Only the first few are relevant to this story, but I figured I'd mention the rest just to be safe. So don't sue me, 'kay?

A/N: When I refer to Bakura, I will usually call him _Ryou_ Bakura, or just plain old Ryou. Why? Not because I don't like the name Bakura, but because 4Kids forgot to give him a surname. So if I was referring to Yugi's friends, as I do at one point this chapter, I would get 'Yugi Motou, Joey Wheeler, Téa Gardner, Tristan Taylor, and… Bakura.' Which doesn't sound right. I _like_ the idea of poor Bakura having a surname.

* * *

Joan stood outside of a small coffee shop, wondering why she was there. She had been greatly surprised to come home to her apartment late the night before to find a note taped to her door, requesting her company at this café. A note from the most unlikely of persons… 

She stepped inside, the bell above the door tinkling as she did so. She was greeted with warm air, laden with the smell of coffee and pastries. Gazing around the cheerily lit room, she saw the person she was looking for.

She headed over to the table in the far corner, where he had chosen to sit. She cleared her throat when she reached it, announcing her presence to the suited man who sat sipping his coffee.

He looked up, surprise and relief evident on his face even with the shades covering his eyes.

"Ma'am. I'm glad you're here; I was worried that you wouldn't show."

"Of course I came," she sat down. "Do you mind telling me what's going on, Carlson? Has something happened? Did…" she hesitated. "Did Seto send you?"

The goon fidgeted. "No. Mr. Kaiba doesn't even know I'm here."

She couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It would have been too much to hope for, that her son would have had such a sudden change of heart towards her.

Apparently, her regret showed on her face. Carlson looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, ma'am. Mr. Kaiba's had it rough lately – both of 'em."

"How have they been doing?" she asked softly.

He sighed. "Not very well. Master Mokuba's takin' it real hard. He's been mopin' around the house ever since we got him home from the hospital. It's understandable, I guess, but still… Master Mokuba never mopes.

"Mr. Kaiba's tryin' real hard for him, but he's not really sure how to handle him when he's like this. We're all used to him bouncin' back from everythin'. I remember one time some bully at school had it in for him, but he never stopped smilin' throughout it all. And Mr. Kaiba had someone speak to the school and the boy's parents, so everythin' turned out all right in the end." Carlson smiled fondly, but then his expression turned glum. "But now…" He sighed.

Joan, deciding that now would probably be a good time to change the subject, asked, "Why did you want to see me Carlson, if my son didn't send you?"

"Well, ma'am, it's like this… I've known Mr. Kaiba and Master Mokuba longer than almost anyone at Kaiba Corp. has. I'd just been hired into the Goon Squad a few weeks before they first came to us."

"The Goon Squad?"

"Kind of like the Kaiba's personal bodyguards. We keep 'em safe, stop anyone from hurtin' 'em, et cetera. We also drive the limo and make coffee in the mornin'. Mr. Kaiba likes cookin' his own meals, but he couldn't make coffee to save his life." They both grinned at this. Carlson continued, "In the past, back when Gozaburo was in charge, we took care of dirty work, too. Assassinations, and the like. Anyone he didn't want around…"

She nodded. She'd seen her fair share of the underhand dealings that some corporate executive sharks stooped to.

"Not since Mr. Kaiba's been in charge, though. He may not be the nicest of people, but he follows the law.

"Anyway, I'd been assigned gate duty the day they first arrived. Now, let me tell you this, ma'am, we all hate gate duty. It's mind numbin'ly borin'. You sit in a little gatehouse all day, open the gates when the limo comes in or goes out, watch some security cameras, and occasionally see some action when you chase off trespassers. Gozaburo'd left early in the mornin', and it'd been a fairly quiet day, so I was even more bored than usual. So I was surprised when the limo pulled up with someone in the back seat. Two someone's, s'matter of fact.

"They never told us what was goin' on in the mansion back then, unless it was important. Bein' newly hired, I was about as low as you could get, so they didn't even tell me most of that. So you can imagine my surprise when I see two little boys, about five and ten years old, step out of the limo and get led inside.

"That was Master Mokuba and Mr. Kaiba of course, though we didn't call him Mr. Kaiba back then. That title was reserved for Gozaburo." The man made a face as he said his former employer's name, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I took a likin' to the boys immediately; everyone did. Master Mokuba was pretty scared at first. He'd never been in a house that big before, and Gozaburo scared him. Heck, Gozaburo scared _everyone_. He was worse than Mr. Kaiba that way. At least with Mr. Kaiba you know he won't _really_ eviscerate you with a rusty spoon. With Gozaburo, you could never be too sure.

"But even around his fear, which I admit never really went away so long as that man was still alive, Master Mokuba was a ray of sunshine. He'd always give you a big smile, like he was happier to see you than anythin' in the world. Of course, he saved his biggest smiles for Mr. Kaiba. Still does, except these past few weeks. It's so strange, not havin' him happy.

"Mr. Kaiba wasn't quite as innocent as Master Mokuba was. He'd seen things most of us can only imagine. Accordin' to him the world sucked and there wasn't anythin' he could do about it. He'd gone through Hell, and he'd done it all for Master Mokuba.

"That's the thing with Mr. Kaiba. If he doesn't think somethin' will be good for his brother, he won't do it. Everythin' he did, he did it for him. He didn't really care what happened to himself, just so long as his brother had a chance for a better life. That's not to say that he didn't want to live a happy life, too, but his brother was – and still is – first and foremost.

"Gozaburo was a… a very cruel man. He left Master Mokuba alone, mostly; I'm pretty sure the only reason he'd brought him home in the first place was that he came with Mr. Kaiba, no exceptions. I don't know much about their time before they came to us, but I do know that Mr. Kaiba fought like crazy to keep his brother and him together.

"Mr. Kaiba, or Master Seto, as he was then, was a different story. I don't really have permission to go into details; there's some things the Kaibas don't want gettin' out. But I can tell you this: Mr. Kaiba still has scars."

She gasped at that. Scars? What had been done to her son?

"Anyway, I remember thinkin' to myself a lot that it was a shame that the boys had to go through that. I did what I could to make things better for 'em; so did some of the rest of the staff. But to be honest, ma'am, we should've done a lot more. We should have gone to the police, or somethin', instead of lettin' it just go on. But we were afraid, ma'am, afraid for our jobs, afraid for our lives. Some of us had families, too, and I wouldn't put it past Gozaburo to have sent someone out to hurt someone's family if he thought they'd betrayed him.

"But there was so much more that we could've done, that we _should_'ve done. Too late thinkin' about it now, I guess, but some of the things we might've prevented still haunt me today.

"I can remember always regettin', late at night, that I didn't have the courage to stand up to that madman. Regrettin' that there was nothin' I could do. I did a lot of regrettin', back then.

"One of the main things I remember regrettin' was that the boys had to be here in the first place. That they didn't have any family that could take 'em away." He fixed her with a long, steady gaze.

"It went on like that for four years, and then Master Seto played his trump card. He beat Gozaburo at his own game, and took on the role that he's had ever since. He stopped bein' Master Seto and became Mr. Kaiba, and I tell you, he's done a lot better job of it then the old one did.

"We were real busy after that, restructurin' the company. You know Kaiba Corp. used to be a weaponry company, right? Well, Mr. Kaiba turned all that around. He's seen too much death in his life, I guess, too many hardships. He didn't want anyone else to go through what he did. He wanted to give everyone a reason to be happy. Seems kind of strange to some, those who don't know how he is deep down, but it's the truth all the same. Mr. Kaiba turned Kaiba Corp. around, takin' us in a completely different direction. We went from makin' weapons to makin' games, and we're all better off for it.

"At any rate, what with life so hectic for a while, I forgot all about regrettin' that they don't have a real family, except for each other. And after Gozaburo died, there didn't seem to be much of a point.

"Until you came along. You made me remember, ma'am, and I can see now that it's just as important now as it was then. The past still bothers Mr. Kaiba, ma'am, and I think that you can help him. If Mr. Kaiba can learn to accept you, that is."

She looked at him, hardly daring to hope. "What are you saying, Carlson?"

He grinned at her. "Just what you think I am, ma'am. I'm goin' to help you."

She still couldn't believe it. Seto's trusted bodyguard was willing to go against his employer's wishes just so that he could be happy? Weren't bodyguards trained to do whatever their boss told them, to follow orders without question? "I-I don't understand…"

His grin grew. He clearly knew what she was thinking. "Yeah, I know, I have to be the first goon in the history of goon-kind that ever thought to disobey their boss. But I'm mighty fond of those boys, ma'am, if you don't mind me sayin' so. Master Mokuba has gone so far as to accuse me of actin' like a 'mother duck,' I get so worried if somethin's wrong. And it may cost me my job, though if everythin' works out in the end I doubt that Mr. Kaiba'd do that. But even if he does that's okay. It'd be worth it, to see Master Mokuba smile again. To see Mr. Kaiba smile in the first place. He's not one to smile easily, if you haven't noticed.

"And maybe this isn't the best time to be doin' this, what with Master Mokuba's accident. Life's been real chaotic, of late, and I'm not sure I should add any more to it. But I figured this might be my only chance, as I don't know if you'll be in town long."

She shrugged. "I had been hoping for my stay here to be indefinite, but after Seto reacted the way he did… But maybe with your help, I'll be staying in Domino for longer than I expected." She smiled at him, and he grinned in reply.

"How do we go about doing this, Carlson?" she asked. "Do you have any kind of a plan? You know him better than I do – you know what would work on him." She smiled, a little sadly. "I know what would work if he were still five, but I doubt bribing him with milk and cookies works anymore."

Carlson laughed. "It most certainly doesn't. And I might have somethin' that would work, yes. Do you have any keepsakes from when Mr. Kaiba was small? Somethin' that he'd remember, that would help convince him that you are who you say you are?"

"Yes, I have a few old pictures. And I have… something else," she smiled. "Do you think that'd work?"

"It might. Though you'd still have to talk to him. Just because he believed you doesn't mean he'd accept you right away. You prepared for that?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Then I'll find a way to get Mr. Kaiba out to your place as soon as possible. I'll call as soon as I know when, so you'll be ready."

"That sounds great, Carlson." She stood, wanting to get home and start looking for mementos as soon as possible. "And Carlson?"

"Ma'am?"

"Thank you."

* * *

Mokuba lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was once again thinking about how his life had been turned totally and completely upside down. 

He still couldn't understand why this had happened. Hadn't he and his brother been through enough? Apparently not; life kept throwing hurdle after hurdle in front of them. Mokuba wasn't sure that he'd have the strength to keep leaping over them for much longer.

He wondered briefly if his brother wasn't the only one to have had a past life. (Well, _he_ believed Yugi and Ishizu, even if Seto didn't!) He wondered, if that were the case, what kind of terrible crime he had committed, to be paying for it so harshly now.

He struggled to sit up, shoving his legs off the bed and pulling over the rickety excuse for a wheelchair that he was supposed to use. He couldn't wait until he got his own; he was sick and tired of having to use that old piece of junk.

With some hassle, he managed to seat himself in the chair and fasten the buckle that held him in place. He had barely been out of the house in the week since he had returned from the hospital. Seto hadn't had the heart to send him to school just yet, though he was supposed to start up again the following week. He wanted to get some fresh air.

He was getting better at using the wheelchair. Seto had taken him to get some custom made black leather gloves, fingerless, to protect his palms, which he found had started to chafe after a few days of constantly wheeling himself around the house. He was getting better at keeping his fingers out of the way of the spokes of the wheels, too, and hadn't given himself a new bruise in a few days. All in all, his hands were much happier than they had been in the beginning.

His arms were getting stronger, too. After only a few days, Mokuba found that they were not as sore at the end of the day, and his stamina had greatly improved.

His steering had become enhanced, as well. He easily maneuvered himself through his bedroom door and down to the elevator at the end of the hall.

He took the elevator down to the first floor and wheeled himself towards the front door. The boy allowed himself to roll unchecked down the ramp, enjoying the feeling of the wind that blew back his long hair.

He started turning the wheels as soon as he reached the bottom, keeping up a good pace down the driveway and to the gate. He was stopped by the goon who had been landed with gate duty that day.

"Going out, sir?"

The young Kaiba nodded.

"Where to?"

He paused. He hadn't really thought about where he would go yet. He just wanted to get some fresh air. "I'm not sure."

The goon hesitated. "Does Mr. Kaiba know you're going out?"

He shook his head. "He was working. You know what he's like when he's working. I could have rung a Chinese Temple Gong right next to him and he wouldn't have noticed."

The goon grinned, pleased that his young boss seemed to be in a bit of a better mood, at least enough that he was able to joke.

"Now, Master Mokuba, you know that's not true. His phone rings, and he'll answer it before you can even _say_ 'Chinese Temple Gong.'"

The boy chuckled. He felt better already – and he hadn't even left the property yet.

"If he asks for me, you can tell him I went for a-" he bit off the word "walk," feeling a bit of his gloom return. "Just tell him I just went to get some fresh air. And that I have my cell phone with me. Will you do that?"

"Yes, sir." The goon opened the gate for him. "Have fun, sir."

* * *

Seto Kaiba was diligently at work in his home office when he heard a knock on his door. Expecting Mokuba, he called, "Come in." 

He was surprised to see Carlson enter the room. "Carlson? Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly, Mr. Kaiba."

"Then what can I do for you?"

"Well, Mr. Kaiba… I've been thinking…"

* * *

Mokuba sighed in content, enjoying the feeling of the sun and wind on his face. He'd had a good time so far, and could practically feel his frustration melting away. Not completely, of course; a small seed of depression kept nagging him at the back of his mind, but it was held at bay for now. And he supposed that that small bit, too, would eventually go away. All in all, he was in a pretty good mood, until a voice from across the street hailed him. 

"Hey, Mokuba! Mokuba, is that you?"

He looked up, surprised to see Yugi Motou and his group of friends hurrying towards him. Joey Wheeler, Téa Gardner, Tristan Taylor, and even Ryou Bakura (Mokuba fervently hoped that it wasn't the boy's yami in control at the moment, though he doubted that Yugi's own yami would have stood for it if he were) were all coming towards him, concern etched in their faces.

"Hey guys," he said unenthusiastically. He wasn't sure he wanted to see them right now. As far as he knew, they hadn't been informed of his accident. Seto always did his best to keep the media out of their private lives, and he certainly hadn't told them himself. For once, Mokuba wished that his brother had allowed at least one reporter to learn something. He didn't want to be the one to explain about his accident to the people who, along with Seto, were the closest things he had to friends.

"Oh, Mokuba, what happened to you?" Téa wailed.

He looked at her bleakly and mumbled, "Accident."

"You okay, man?" Joey asked.

"Yeah, you look like you've been through a lot," Tristan agreed.

"I'm… Look, I really don't want to talk about it."

Soft-spoken Ryou (not, Mokuba was relieved to see, his yami) came to his rescue. "That's okay, Mokuba. You don't have to. It can't be very easy to talk about. Was anyone else hurt?"

"Yeah, is Kaiba okay?" Yugi asked, looking worried.

"He's fine. Everyone's fine. I was the only one who got hurt."

"Would you like to spend some time with us, Mokuba? Yugi's grandpa was going to show us his newest Duel Monsters cards later on today; I'm sure you could come along," Téa suggested, trying to cheer him up.

"Of course he could," Yugi agreed. "Would you like to, Mokuba?"

"No, thank you. That's really nice of you, but I should be getting back. I've been out for about an hour, and it's my first time out; I don't want anyone to worry."

"All right, Mokuba. Have a good day."

The rest of the gang all bid the boy good-bye, watching him head back towards the Kaiba mansion.

"Poor kid," Joey said as the wheelchair-bound figure rounded the corner. "You dink he'll be okay?"

Yugi looked at him sadly. He could sense the sadness that had radiated off of the younger boy, and could only imagine everything that he was going through right now. "I don't know, Joey. I really don't know."

* * *

Mokuba stopped as he rounded the corner, looking back at Yugi and his friends. He would have liked to go with them, and he doubted that anyone would _really_ get worried about him for another hour at least. They were used to him disappearing for short lengths of time. But the encounter with Yugi's group had been enough to show him that readjusting to society would take a lot longer than he had originally thought. He wasn't sure he was ready to face it just yet. Sadly, he turned and started to wheel himself home. 

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he never noticed the hand that shot out of the dark alley and grabbed him until it was too late.

The unstable wheelchair easily tipped over. The belt that held him in place, which was as poor of quality as the rest of the chiar, snapped, sending him sprawling on the ground. He opened his mouth to scream, but whoever had overturned him quickly slipped a hand over his mouth, effectively stifling his cries.

Wait a minute… That wasn't just a hand… That was a cloth… and the sickly sweet smell that was now assaulting his nose was…

Mokuba blacked out.

* * *

A/N: (insert evil laughter) Well, I _told_ you it'd be heating up this chapter. What were you expecting, fluffy bunnies? No, that would've been too sickeningly cute for my tastes. How about a nice cliffhanger, instead? 

Or rather, _several_ nice cliffhangers. Will Carlson manage to convince Seto to go see his mother? If so, will she manage to convince him of her identity? If so, will he accept her? If so, will I get a million dollars and a tuna sandwich? Probably not the last one, unfortunately. As for the rest, well… You'll have to be patient. (Patience? What's that?)

And what of little Mokuba? Will he adjust to his new lifestyle? Why did someone just kidnap him? Will he escape? Will he be rescued? Would Seto _really_ not notice if he got a Chinese Temple Gong? All this, including the gong (not in Seto's office, though), with a lot more added, coming (hopefully) soon!


	9. Ghosts of the Past

Disclaimer: One more time for the legal disclaimer impaired: I do not own _Yu Gi Oh!_ or any of it's related characters, places, merchandise, whatever. I'm not likely to acquire them, either, though if the current owners were to put them under my Christmas tree come December, I would hardly complain. I do own Carlson, Joan, and anyone else you don't recognize. Use them without my permission and I will steal your soul.

* * *

Seto stared at the apartment complex in front of him. He frowned, cramming his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. He didn't know how he'd allowed Carlson to convince him to do this. 

"Ready, sir?" The sound of the goon's voice behind him caused him to turn around. He glared, still annoyed with the man.

"No."

Carlson grinned good-naturedly. "Oh, come on, sir, you promised."

Seto sighed. "Carlson, if you were anyone else, I'd have your job for making me do this. And I _still_ don't know how you managed to drag me out here in the first place."

The man's grin widened. "It's number C13, sir." He pointed in the general direction of the building. "Go on."

"Aren't you coming?" Though he didn't let any of it show on his face or in his voice, Seto wasn't exactly enthusiastic about facing this alone. He remembered the dreams he'd been having, hauntings from the past, and suppressed a shudder.

The part that frightened him was that a small corner of his brain _believed_ the stranger. He could think of no other reason for why he was being plagued with these nightmares – two of them, now, and he doubted that they would be the last.

_No_, that same, annoying part of him corrected. _They aren't nightmares. Or do you deny that you feel happy when you have them? Relaxed? At peace with yourself, in a way that you've never felt before_…_ at least not since your mother 'died.'_

His frown deepened. _I'll deny it all I want and there's nothing you can do about it._ With that, he firmly turned his attention back to Carlson.

The goon was speaking again. "I'm stayin' with the limo, sir. You need to do this yourself."

Seto considered ordering him to come with him, but decided against it. He had meant what he'd said earlier: if any other person had tried to do what Carlson had, they would have been fired before they could say "Kaiba Corporation." But the goon was one of the few people that the teenager trusted. That, he supposed, was how he'd allowed himself to be persuaded into coming out here.

"Very well. I shan't be long." _I hope_…

He set out in the indicated direction, looking about him as he did so. The complex was made of small, one story brick buildings scattered throughout the area. He glanced at their identification numbers as he passed, looking for the one Carlson had mentioned.

_B4_… _B5_… He quickened his pace, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. _C10_… _C11_… _C12_…

There it was. Number C13. It was no different than the others: small, brick, and unremarkable. Seto stared at it for a moment, then stepped up onto the front step, reached out his hand, and knocked.

There was no answer. He waited impatiently, resisting the urge to fidget. According to Carlson, she had promised to be here. So where was she?

He knocked again, wondering why he didn't just declare her to be not home and leave. Still no answer. He growled. Struck by a sudden impulse, he reached out and grabbed the knob. It was probably locked, after all, and once he was satisfied that it was, he could depart and return to the things that really mattered: Mokuba and Kaiba Corporation. He twisted…

And the door swung open.

He stared at it, surprised. _Perhaps she's home after all_…_ But then why didn't she come when I knocked?_

…_Should I go inside?_

Deciding that the worst that could happen was that she could become angry and force him to leave, which in his opinion wasn't anything to cry over, he stepped through the door.

The interior was dim. No lights were on, and the only source of light was a small window set in the wall next to the door. Apparently, she was indeed not home. Blinking, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in illumination. When he could properly see, he looked about him.

As he had already noted when looking at the building from the outside, it was small. The room in which he now stood appeared to be a combination kitchen and living room. There was a hallway leading out of the living room half; he could see a door, probably to a bedroom, at the far end. The bathroom was probably also down that hallway, and perhaps a closet. Other than that, there was nothing. It was a far cry from the comfort he had grown used to over the years.

After softly closing the door, he walked into the center of the room, noting the sparse furniture. A television and couch sat in the living room; a table, refrigerator, microwave, and several drawers and cabinets were in the kitchen. He could, of course, not see what was in the bedroom, but from the look of things here he doubted if it would be very luxurious.

_Either she doesn't have a lot of money – which just further supports my suspicions, as an impecunious person is likely to want to leech off of Kaiba Corp. – or she isn't planning on staying here very long._ He frowned. _Either way, I don't like it. But_…_ I suppose there's only one way to find out._

There was something lying on the kitchen table. Or rather, several somethings. He could see them from where he stood. They appeared to be nothing more than a pile of insignificant pieces of paper. Deciding that he might learn something useful by taking a look, Seto swept into the kitchen.

Cold blue eyes traveled over the numerous documents. Most appeared to be bills, as unimportant to him as he had thought upon first seeing them, but then he saw something interesting. He reached out and slid the document out from under its companions, holding it up so that he might be able to see it better in the dim light.

It was a birth certificate. Furthermore, it was _his_ birth certificate. His eyes scanned it, stunned. It was his, all right. How had a stranger managed to get a copy of his birth certificate?

_Because she's not a stranger,_ that same, nagging voiced insisted. _You know it. Why don't you accept it?_

He shook his head. There _had_ to be another explanation. Further research would verify that. All he needed to do was find the evidence that would prove it and he could finally be at peace.

Glancing once more at the unruly pile of papers scattered across the table, he determined that there was nothing else of use to him. Perhaps the bedroom would yield more useful information…

He strode out of the kitchen, heading down the hallway he had noted earlier. He passed two doors on the way; a quick peek inside revealed that his previous guess had been correct: a closet, mostly empty, and a bathroom.

He reached the door, not hesitating before pushing it open. The sight that greeted him was no more awe-inspiring than the rest of the apartment had been. A single bed, neatly made, a bedside table, a dresser, and desk. There appeared to be nothing of use to his purposes here, but he stepped inside anyway. There was nothing lying on the bed, nothing on the dresser or desk. On the table…

Photographs. With luck, exactly what he needed.

He picked the first stack up, looking at the picture on the top. It was clearly old, though not more than a decade or so, and the small white house depicted in the image looked somehow familiar. He repressed a shudder at the eerie sense of nostalgia that swept over him. Whatever the house was, it was somewhere he had been before, and it was somewhere he had loved.

He looked at the next picture. It was the same house, but this time there was a person standing on the front porch, grinning gleefully at whoever was holding the camera. They were small, a young child, with short brown hair and blue eyes that had not yet been hardened by years of hardship.

He stared, caught by complete surprise at the image of a four- or five-year-old version of himself.

_But how_..._? That's impossible!_ His stunned, faltering mental arguments were all of a sudden cut off by a sound from the front of the apartment.

The sound of a door opening, and… was that a _dog_ barking? Seto froze, apprehensive.

There was a loud scrambling sound from down the hall, and suddenly a golden-brown _something_ shot through the still-open door like a bat out of hell. It crashed into him, its loud howling confirming that it was the dog he had heard not moments before. Unprepared for the sudden weight slamming into him, he fell to the ground, just missing hitting his head on the corner of the table. He braised himself, expecting to feel sharp teeth biting into his flesh in reprimand for being on the canine's territory, felt hot breath on his face…

…And opened his eyes in amazement at the feeling of a soft, wet tongue traveling over his face. He quickly shut his eyes again, wincing as the dog covered his entire face with slobber. Recovering from his shock, he regained control of his limbs and placed his hands on the animal's chest, gently pushing it back.

"All right, all right, enough…" he muttered. The dog sat back on his chest, the expression on its face so resembling a grin that he couldn't help but be amused, though his calm expression never cracked.

He sat back, absently wiping his face as he did so, and observed the animal. He could now see that it was a golden retriever, faintly silver-tipped around its muzzle. _Strange. Where have I seen you before, pup?_

_Pup_…

He was struck by a sudden remembrance, back a month into the past when his life had still had some resemblance of normalcy, save for a strange dream that had haunted him the entire day…

..._Another look around the room showed him a dog lying in front of the fire. The pup, a golden retriever, was yet another strangely familiar piece in this puzzle_…

As he recalled the dream, his brain supplied him with another piece on information.

"Willy?" he tried. The dog yipped in approval.

"He always was your dog, Seto."

Seto jerked at the amused voice coming from the doorway. His head flew up, cold blue eyes fixing themselves on the figure that stood there.

"How?" he asked.

"How what?" Joan replied.

"'How' a lot of things. Let's start with how you got those photographs." He was aware that, as the person found intruding in this woman's home, he was the last one who should be asking questions, but he didn't particularly care. He slowly sat up, easing Willy off his chest so that he could rise to his feet. The dog complied, sittingby his sideand panting happily.

She walked over to him, stooping to pick the up from the photographs from where they had fallen when Willy had crashed into him. "These photographs?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I was talking about the _other_ photographs. You know, the ones that aren't there? Which photographs did you _think_ I was talking about?"

She ignored his sarcasm. "I have them because I was the one who took them."

"How?" he asked again.

"With a camera?" she replied with some sarcasm of her own.

"You know what I meant."

"And _you_ know my answer."

He scowled. He knew what she meant, all right. "Impossible."

"Why? Why do you find it so hard to believe?"

She was shocked at the sad, haunted look in his eyes. "You're dead," he whispered. "_My mother_ is dead. For twelve years…" Willy nudged his hand in an attempt to comfort him, reminding him of something else he had meant to ask.

"How do you explain him?" he gestured.

"Willy? What do you mean?"

"You said, 'he always was your dog.' But we didn't get Willy until after y– after my mother had died. If you are who you say you are, how is it that you would know that he always listened to me more than Dad or anyone else? Not only that, how do you even _know_ about him? And how is he _here_? He was brought to the pound after we were sent to the orphanage. How did _you_ manage to get him?"

"That's… kind of a long story."

He leaned the corner of the bed, folding his arms across his chest. "I have time."

"All right… It has to do with why–"

A sharp ringing filled the air, cutting her off. Seto frowned, correctly identifying the source as the cell phone in his pocket. With a growl and a few muttered obscenities, he jerked it out, turned it on, and snapped, "Kaiba. This had better be good."

"S-Sir. You n-n-need to come h-home, sir." The voice on the other end was filled with raw terror, whether from his tone or something else, Seto didn't want to hazard a guess.

"Why?"

"It's M-M-Master Mok-kuba, sir."

"What about him?" Seto's eyes narrowed, not liking the feeling of déjà vu that was sweeping over him. "What's wrong?"

"He's missing, sir. He's gone."

"…What do you _mean_, 'missing'?" Seto felt his stomach clench in fear. _Not now_… _Not again_…

"He left over three hours ago, sir." The goon's voice was steadying, falling into the familiar pattern of giving a report. "The guard at the gate let him out, said he wanted to go for a… to get some fresh air. He took his cell phone, but we tried calling after an hour, and he never picked up."

"…I see." Seto's fists clenched, the knuckles on the hand holding his cell phone turning white. "Spread out. Find him. I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

A/N: Okay, tell me, how many people had to look up 'impecunious' in a dictionary? Heck, I did. Was looking for a not-so-blunt way of saying dirt poor, and look what I found! 

(grin) I've always liked the idea of Seto having a dog. Don't know why… but now he does! And from that springs a new plot bunny... If dog, why not a cat...? (scrambles off to write that down)

Don't worry, Moki! Seto's coming! Just hold on!

But will he be in time?

Hope you liked this chapter! As usual, let me know if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes. Review? 


	10. Gone

Disclaimer: Don't own it, people.

A/N: Two notes today. First off, in the English dubbed version of Yu Gi Oh, Joey Wheeler has a Brooklyn accent. If I remember correctly, this this is carried over from the Japanese version, where Jonouchi Katsuya has what is considered a rude accent because he doesn't use honorifics (ergo, -_kun_, -_chan_, -_sama_, et cetera). I am of course going by the English dubbed version, as I can't speak Japanese (yet!). However, I have no idea how to write a Brooklyn accent and make it look believable. Please excuse my sorry attempts to do so, and if you have any suggestions, feel free to... suggest them.

Secondly, just in case you haven't noticed, I always refer to people in the way that the person whose point of view I'm writing in thinks of them. Thus Seto is "Mr. Kaiba" when it's Carlson's pov, Joey is "Wheeler" when it's Seto's, et cetera.

* * *

"Carlson! Get moving!" 

The goon looked up, surprised to hear his young boss' voice calling him to action. He hadn't expected Mr. Kaiba to come back for another hour, at least. He bit his lip, nervous. The blue-eyed CEO sounded extremely angry. That wasn't a good sign.

He could see him coming towards him now, emanating rage, the fire in his eyes evident even to Carlson, who was still some distance away. Definitely not a good sign.

He was closely followed, surprisingly enough, by Joan and a golden retriever, not on a leash but obviously with no intention of leaving Mr. Kaiba's side. Carlson was now severely confused.

He stood from his seat on a bench near where he had parked the limousine and trotted over to his boss. "Sir? What's goin'on?"

Mr. Kaiba wasted no time in telling him. "Mokuba is missing."

Both Carlson and Joan, who had apparently not been informed of the latest turn of events, gasped. "Missin', sir?" the goon managed to choke out.

Mr. Kaiba glared. "Did I stutter?"

"N-No, sir," Carlson replied, a bit of a stutter of his own entering his voice. "My apologies."

"Don't apologize, Carlson, _move_!" Mr. Kaiba reached over, grasping his arm and hurrying him along. Getting the idea, the goon sped up his pace, jogging to keep up with the long-legged teenager.

"What happened, sir?"

"According to the goon who called, he went out for some air over three hours ago. His cell phone is not responding, and he didn't tell anyone his exact destination. _I want him found_."

"Yes sir, we'll find him." They'd reached the limo now, and Carlson hurried to open the door of the long, sleek black car for his employer. "Do you have any idea where he might've gone?"

"If I knew that, Carlson, he wouldn't be missing, now would he?" Half into the car, Mr. Kaiba paused and turned to face Joan. "You're coming with us."

Joan and Carlson traded confused looks; that was not what they had been expecting.

"Seto?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're complaining?"

"No, of course not, I just–"

"I don't care what 'you just.' I want answers, and I'm going to get them. Get in the car." He slid the rest of the way in himself, scooted down to the far end to make room, and snapped his fingers, emitting a short whistle. The dog who had followed him so closely up to this point barked gleefully and scrambled in after him, lying down on the seat and placing his head on Mr. Kaiba's lap.

Carlson blinked and raised his eyebrows, not sure what to make of this latest development, and looked at Joan. She gave him a small, uncertain smile, and slid into the limo. Shaking his head, he shut the door behind her, got into the driver's seat, and hurriedly left the apartment complex. They had a boy to find.

* * *

"This isn't working." 

"Thank you _ever_ so much for pointing out the obvious." Seto rolled his eyes, but didn't take his gaze away from scanning the side of the road. They had been searching for almost an hour, and there was still no sign of Mokuba.

Joan sighed. "We're not going to find him like this."

"Do you have a better idea?"

She pursed her lips, thinking. "Let's come at this logically. What about his friends' houses? Has someone checked there?"

He glanced over at her. "Friends?"

She frowned, not understanding. "Friends."

"He has no friends."

"He… doesn't have… any friends?"

"That _is_ what I said, isn't it?" He shifted his attention back to the roadside.

She sat back, stunned. What kind of adolescent had no friends? Why?

Carlson cleared his throat. "Mr. Kaiba?"

"What?"

"Might he… is it possible he could be at Yugi Motou's house?"

Seto was silent, thinking this over. Joan looked at him curiously. Who was Yugi Motou? Why did Seto seem so... unenthusiastic about the idea of Mokuba being at his house?

Eventually he sighed. "The things I'll do for you, little brother. Carlson, set course for the Kame Game Shop."

"Yes, sir."

Seto and Joan continued to eye the crowds that walked the streets of Domino City, desperate to find the missing boy, as Carlson turned to a new part of the city.

They pulled into a small, turtle-shaped store with colorful posters of strange monsters in the windows. Joan eyed them with interest, noting both the name that accompanied each poster – Duel Monsters – and the initials _KC_ in the lower right hand corner of many of the pictures. She had heard of the game before, though she didn't know much about it, and she was intrigued by the intricate images.

But she had more important things to worry about than a card game right now, and she hurriedly exited the limo via the door that Carlson held opened for her, following Willy and Seto into the shop.

She nearly bumped into him as the door swung shut behind her. He was standing stiffly in front of her, facing the counter at the far end of the room, clearly wishing he were somewhere else. She wondered why he disliked this place so much. It seemed nice enough to her.

A cheerful, if a little surprised-sounding, voice greeted them. "Hey, Kaiba! What're you doing here? Can I help you with something?"

"Perhaps," he began as he walked further into the room, allowing her to peer around him. She could see a short, wild-haired youth standing behind the counter, watching them with puzzled violet eyes.

Before Seto could continue, however, another, decisively unfriendly voice filled the room. "Kaiba! What's _he_ doin' here?"

"Believe you me, Wheeler, there are many other places I would rather be at the moment," was the icy reply to the blonde-haired boy who had come out of one of the backrooms.

"Yeah? Well, den why don't ya go to dem, huh?"

Seto glanced idly at the short boy behind the counter. "Has he had his rabies shots? He appears to be foaming at the mouth."

"Argh! _Kaiba!_" Theblonde leaned across the counter, straining to reach the CEO. The other boy hastily reached over and grabbed him, keeping him back.

"Joey, stop it! Why don't you go back into the backroom and wait 'til he's gone; I can handle it."

"But Yugi–"

"That's right, Wheeler. Ignore me and I'll go away. It works for your fleas; it shouldn't be that much harder to do with me."

"_Kaiba, I don't have fleas_," he growled.

"I beg to differ. However, I didn't come here to argue with you, Wheeler. Do either of you know the current whereabouts of my younger brother?"

The two boys traded surprised looks. "No… I'm sorry, Kaiba, we don't," said the short one, slowly. "We saw him, what, two, three hours ago, now, Joey?" The blonde nodded. "But we don't know where he is now," the first boy continued.

"You saw him?"

The boy nodded.

"Did he mention his destination?"

"He said he was going home."

"Well, he never made it. Where was this encounter?"

"Not far from here. Hang on a sec, I'll show you." The boy half turned, shouting, "Grandpa! Can you cover the shop for a little while? I need to go out; it's important!"

There was a pause, then the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. An old man entered the room, looking about in surprise at the scene that greeted him. "I suppose so, Yugi. Don't take too long."

"I won't, Grandpa, thanks!" said the boy. He turned to the blonde. "You coming, Joey?"

His friend frowned, shifted uncomfortably, then nodded. "Yeah, Yug, I'm comin'. But not for _ya_," he added with a glare at Seto. "For the kid."

"I don't give a damn whether you come or what your reasons for doing so are, Wheeler." He was already heading for the door, brushing past Joan on his way. "Just show me the spot."

The two boys trotted after him, slowing down slightly to peer in curiosity at Joan and Willy. "Hey Kaiba, who's this?" the short boy asked.

"No one you need to concern yourself with."

The boy cocked his head at her in puzzlement.

"My name is Joan," she told him. She didn't elaborate further, as, though he seemed nice enough, she barely knew this boy.

Smiling amiably at her, he said, "I'm Yugi Motou. This is my friend Joey Wheeler."

She nodded at both of them. "It's nice to meet you."

"Hey! The last time I checked, when a person has been missing for several hours, it's considered an urgent situation – not one where you stand around and make formalities! Let's _go_!" Seto angry voice floated back to them. They hurried after him.

* * *

"This is the place?" 

"This is it, Kaiba.The gang and I were heading to the Game Shop when we saw him going that way," Yugi explained, pointing to indicate what direction the boy had been going in. "We came over and talked to him for a little while. Then he said he needed to go home or people would start to worry."

"And he headed in the direction of the mansion?"

Yugi nodded, pointing again. "That way."

"That's the right way, all right," he mused aloud. "So why didn't he make it? Why wasn't he home hours ago?"

No one had any answers.

"Hey, maybe de mutt can sniff 'im out," Wheeler suggested, looking at the golden retriever that was sitting at Seto's feet.

"Really, Wheeler? I didn't know your nose was that strong," Seto smirked.

"_Kaiba, I'm not a dog_."

"Odd. You sure are growling like one."

"Hey, cut it out, you two. Isn't finding Mokuba more important?"

They both glared at Yugi, but had to agree.

"Joey had a good point, Kaiba," Yugi reasoned. "Can your dog track him?"

Seto resisted the urge to taunt Wheeler again and said, "No."

"Why not?"

"First off, we're in the middle of downtown Domino. There are so many scents here – people, shops, food, all the usual clutter that inhabits a city of any size – that a trained bloodhound would have difficulty separating them. Secondly, there's nowhere for him to start. We don't have anything with Mokuba's smell on it for him to get his scent."

"Oh."

"Enough chit chat. Start looking." With that, Seto strode off in the direction Yugi had pointed in. If anyone said anything to him after that, he was too caught up in his search to hear him.

That is, until he heard a startled shout, and Yugi frantically shouting for him. He ran in the direction of the voice, adrenaline surging through him. What had they found?

He soon found out for himself. Standing in an alley, gaping at something that lay at their feet, were Yugi and Wheeler. He heard Joan and Carlson running up behind him, attracted by the shouting.

And there, sprawled on it's side, one wheel spinning gently in the wind, was a wheelchair.

Seto drew in a deep, slow breath, and walked carefully past the two boys over to the chair. Willy followed him, whining softly. The CEO scratched the dog's head absently, trying to focus on the task at hand and not let the worry for his brother cloud his judgment.

Studying the scene, Seto tried to get an idea of what had happened. Judging from the position of the wheelchair, Mokuba had indeed been heading for home when someone in the alley had grabbed him, knocking over the chair and making him easy prey. The snapped seatbelt was testimony to how they had managed to get him out of the chair without someone on the street noticing. The end result was obvious, as there was no sign of the boy now. He clenched his fists, anger flaring up. His brother had been kidnapped. Again.

He heard Willy whining again, and looked down at the dog. He was nudging something on the ground.

"I don't… suppose there's any chance the chair isn't Mokuba's?" he heard Joan say hesitantly.

"No. There isn't," he replied, certainty in his tone.

"How can you be sure?" she challenged, though she didn't sound like she believed it herself.

He stepped over to Willy, bending down and picking up the item he had found. He held it up for them to see.

It was a locket, shaped to look like a Duel Monsters card. An identical one hung around his own neck.

Yugi, Wheeler, and Carlson all looked at it grimly, knowing what it meant. Joan had never seen it before, but she understood the implications, and closed her eyes as if in pain.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"We find him."

"How?" she demanded.

"Well, we've already tried the traditional way, that being 'look,' so we're going to have to go a bit more high-tech, won't we? Luckily for us, technology is my specialty." He started to storm off, and was about to snap for Carlson andJoan to follow him when a voice stopped him.

"Kaiba, wait! We'll help!"

It was Yugi. He turned back to look at the smaller boy. "No. You won't."

Puzzlement crossed his features. "Why not? The more people looking, the greater the chance of finding him, right?"

Seto grit his teeth. He would not, could not accept any more help from his rival. His pride wouldn't stand for it, even for Mokuba. He met Yugi's gaze, trying to convey this without saying it aloud. Slowly, understanding, if not agreement, dawned in the boy's eyes.

"No." Seto repeated.

This time, Yugi gave him a slow nod and a sad smile. "All right, Kaiba. I understand."

"Wha- Yug, you're not jus' gonna stand for dat, are ya?" Wheeler protested.

Yugi looked at him. "I'll explain later, Joey." Turning back to Kaiba, he said, "You'll let us know when you find him?"

Seto couldn't help but feel grateful at that, though he didn't let it show. Yugi had said "_when_ you find him." Not "_if_ you find him." He nodded in answer to the boy's question.

"Okay. Thank you." Yugi grabbed Wheeler's arm and began to walk away. He stopped at the entrance to the alleyway and turned back. "Good luck, Seto," he said softly, and left.

Seto stared after him, then gazed up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, and pinks, oranges, and purples were streaked across the clouds. It was a beautiful sight, but the CEO saw none of it. All he could see was a pair of gray eyes, wide and scared, but at the same time filled with hope. Hope that he wouldn't be left alone, hope that he would be safe, hope that his big brother would chase away all of his fears. He had seen that look so many times…

His hand tightened around the locket. "Little brother…" he murmured. He looked down at the locket. "…Damn…"

He looked over at Carlson and Joan. "Carlson, grab that wheelchair. Both of you come with me. We have work to do."

* * *

A/N: Sorry if Joey looked like a bit of an idiot in this chapter. I actually like Joey; I wasn't trying to bash him. It's just so much fun to have Seto taunt him... 


	11. The Search Begins

Disclaimer: If I owned it, this would be canon, and not fanfiction.

* * *

Joan stared glumly out the window. It was a bright, cheerful afternoon, contrary to the gloom that had settled in both the Kaiba mansion and her heart. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was 1:49 pm. She sighed, remembering. 

As soon as the black limousine had pulled into the long drive of the Kaiba mansion the evening before (she hadn't been able to help gaping at the sheer size and beauty of the house) Seto had swept through the front doors and disappeared somewhere inside. She had tried to follow him, but had been apprehended by Carlson.

"Let him alone, ma'am," the goon has said. In answer to her protests, he had explained, "You don't know Mr. Kaiba like I do. Trust me; he won't be happy if we bug him. Nothin' either of us can do to help, anyway."

And so she had let herself be led to a small sitting room, where she waited until sometime around midnight, when Carlson had showed her to one of the guest rooms. She hadn't gotten much sleep; worry and guilt combined together to make her toss and turn the night long. She had finally drifted off as the sun rose, and had only awoken a short time ago. She had made her way back to the previous night's sitting room, where she sat still, waiting again.

She looked in the direction of the door. Seto was out there somewhere, in an unknown part of the enormous dwelling, searching for the younger brother that he loved so dearly.

Joan bowed her head. She was, understandably, worried. She was terrified that something would happen to her youngest son, before he even knew who she was. Who knew what his kidnappers were doing to him as she sat here, waiting?

She was also beginning to worry about Seto, as well. She looked at the door again. When was the last time he had eaten? It had been shortly before lunchtime when he had come to her apartment, and, to the best of her knowledge, he hadn't consumed anything since then. And had he gotten any sleep last night? She understood that they couldn't afford to take unnecessary breaks, but she didn't think that Seto understood that some breaks _were_ necessary. He was going to make himself sick if he wasn't careful.

She jumped slightly as the door opened. Carlson stood in the doorway, looking tired. The goon had been rotating between keeping her company and seeing to her needs, and staying with Seto, helping in any way he could. Apparently, it was her turn again.

"Any news?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothin'. Mr. Kaiba's narrowed down the search a bit, but there's still so many possibilities… Everythin' he's tryin' leads to a dead end."

"What exactly is he doing?" She had a general grasp of technology, but the kind of work that he was doing was beyond her, and no one had bothered to explain the details.

Carlson sat down next to her. "He tried all the basics first. He triedto trackMaster Mokuba's cell phone, but he couldn't get a signal on it. In usual cases, he'd have tracked the chip in his locket, but, well…" Carlson sighed. "Right now he's makin' a list of possible suspects, seein' which one could be guilty, and doin' a bunch of technical stuff that he never bothers to explain to me, not that I mind."

"How's he doing?"

"Mr. Kaiba? As well as he can be, I suppose."

"Has he eaten anything?" she asked, beginning to voice her worries to the kindly goon.

Carlson sighed. "Not since breakfast yesterday. Hasn't slept, either," he said, unknowingly confirming her other fear. "I've tried to get him to take a break, but…" He shook his head in exasperation.

She stood. "Why don't I try?"

He shook his head again, this time in answer to her suggestion. "No."

"But-"

"Trust me, ma'am. Mr. Kaiba won't take kindly to you steppin' in and…" he hesitated, sighing again, and forced himself to continue, "tryin' to be his mother."

She sat down. Carlson's words hurt, even though she knew he didn't mean them to.

Carlson was silent, unused to having to console someone. Neither his boss nor the younger Kaiba had ever needed him to, Seto never letting him know when something was bothering him and Mokuba preferring to go to his older brother.

He cleared his throat. "You okay, ma'am?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He waited a little while longer before deciding that the best thing to do was to leave her alone. He paused at the door, looking back at her. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he said quietly, and left.

* * *

"Mr. Kaiba?" 

Seto glanced up as Carlson came down the stairs into the basement, then turned his attention back to one of the numerous computer screens that surrounded him. The cellar of the Kaiba mansion was, for the most part, the same as one might find in any other house, save for its enormous size. Cold, dark, and crypt-like, it was filled almost to the bursting with the assorted paraphernalia that had no place in the rest of the mansion.

Unlike most basements, however, this underground cavern – for it was of such a size that no other name suited it – had a small, almost unnoticeable annex that had been added on to the original structure some time before. It had been unused when Seto had first found it, shortly after the death of his stepfather, but he soon changed that. It now served as his personal laboratory within the Kaiba mansion. Computers, monitors, screens, and all manner of technological gadgets lined the walls and filled the space in between. A soft beeping and whirring sound as each machine fulfilled its intended task filled the air, and the glow they produced was visible even from the bottom of the stairs where Carlson now stood, even though he was still some hundred feet away.

"Mr. Kaiba?" the goon called out again, approaching the little room. Seto didn't bother to look up this time, his attention completely occupied by what the screen was telling him, but Willy, lying at his feet, sat up and gave a short bark.

"Hush, pup," he muttered, and the dog lay back down, watching Carlson approach.

Soft footsteps allowed Seto to track his bodyguard's progress without taking his attention away from the statistics that were flashing before his eyes. He sighed. Still nothing.

He said as much when Carlson finally reached the room and came to stand next to him.

The other man gave a sigh of his own. "Yes, sir. I figured as much."

Seto raised an eyebrow. "You're not losing hope, are you, Carlson?"

"No, Mr. Kaiba. Just tired, is all."

"Good. Because I _will_ find him," he growled, half to his guard and half to reassure himself. Quietly, he added, "If it kills me…"

Carlson cleared his throat. "That's what I came to talk to you about, Mr. Kaiba."

Seto finally looked at him, not sure that he liked this new topic. "Oh?"

He blinked, surprised, when he saw that the man was balancing a tray of food on his arm. "What's that?"

"Lunch, sir."

"I don't have time to waste eating lunch, Carlson," he growled.

"That's why I brought it to you, sir. So you could eat somethin' without stoppin'."

Seeing his employer open his mouth to protest again, Carlson pleaded, "Look, sir, you're gonna make yourself sick if you keep this up, and then where will we be?"

Seto gritted his teeth. "Fine. Leave it there," he gestured at a free space on the desk beside him. "I'll… get around to it."

"Yes sir," Carlson replied, sounding relieved. He did as instructed and left the teenager to resume his search.

Seto watched him step outside the white-blue glow generated by the computers. He waited for his footsteps to retreat up the stairs, and until he heard, very dimly, the door at the top of the cellar stairs close. Then, setting his jaw, ignoring Willy's worried whine, he resumed his search for his brother, the encounter, and the tray, forgotten.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for a short chapter. It was originally going to be much longer, but two things changed my mind. One was the sheer length that I was afraid it was going to amount to; the other was that this is just such a _good_ place to end this chapter. 

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	12. Mother May I?

Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: As I think (I am too lazy to go back and look) I stated at the end of last chapter, this was originally supposed to be part of it, but it was too dang long compared to the other chapters, so I split it in two.

Also, I don't _really _know what Seto and Mokuba's father did after his wife died. Or, didn't die, as the case is here. So if everything was really all fine and dandy, then don't yell at me. I'm allowed to twist the story to make life suck for them. Kind of like poetic license, only ixnay the poetic part.

* * *

A setting sun found Joan wandering through the Kaiba mansion. She had originally been merely looking for a bathroom, but she had quickly become hopelessly lost in the enormous house. She wasn't even on the same floor as the sitting room was; unable to find a lavatory on that level, she had descended to the next one. She could only hope now that someone would find her and lead her back. 

In the end, someone did find her, but it wasn't who she was expecting. As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, taking the little bit of light that shown through the windows with it, something cold and wet touched her hand. Startled, she looked down to find Willy sitting at her feet.

He barked at her, gave a little whine, and began to trot down the hall. He stopped, looked back at her, and whined again, showing all the classic, Lassie-like symptoms of a dog demanding to be followed.

Joan walked up to him, and he once again hurried down the hall. This time she followed him without waiting for him to stop. It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

She soon became aware that wherever Willy was leading her, it wasn't back to the sitting room. She had never seen this part of the house before.

They stopped when they reached a door. It was open just enough for the golden retriever to squeeze through. He didn't, though. He sat looking at her, as if he wanted to be sure that she would follow.

"Where are you taking me, Will?" she asked.

He didn't answer, of course. Or, perhaps he did. Another whine escaped him; whatever was through the door, he was worried about it.

"All right, boy. I'll take a look." She swung the door the rest of the way open to reveal of set of steps leading down into darkness. Willy eagerly trotted down them, pausing at the bottom to be sure that she was following. As soon as she stepped onto the first stair, he went on ahead.

Reaching the bottom, she could see the dog disappearing into a room that shown with a blue-white light. She was about to approach when she heard someone speak.

"There you are. Where'd you go, hm?"

She froze; she knew that voice. She hurried towards the room.

He was sitting with one hand resting on Willy's head, the other wrapped around a mug. Surrounded by computer screens, his eyes continuously shifted between them, reading the data that came in. They soon found a new target, however. He looked up as she came in, eyes narrowing.

She was momentarily stunned at the look on his face. Not because of the open animosity – she had grown used to that – but from the sheer exhaustion that overrode almost every feature. His eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles had formed under them. His skin was pale and was stretched almost painfully over his face.

Tearing her gaze away from his ill appearance, she looked at her surroundings. As she had already noted, the room was filled with all manner of technology, most of which were unfamiliar to her. Seto Kaiba sat in its midst.

There was one other thing that caught her attention. On a cleared space on the desk in front of him, its contents long grown cold, was the tray that Carlson had brought Seto his lunch on. It clearly hadn't been touched, save for the mug in his hand.

Seto looked down at Willy, the hand on the dog's head absently playing with the soft golden ears. "Traitor," he said in a calm voice. The dog licked his hand.

Joan blinked. Had he just made a joke? Seeing as he seemed to hold no grudge against the dog, it would appear that he had. Or perhaps he was just too tired to be very angry.

"What do you want?" his icy tone dragged her back to the matter at hand. Well, so much for being too tired to be angry…

"I was lost," she explained. "Willy found me and brought me here."

"I see. Very well, I'll call Carlson and have him bring you back to your room."

"Wait!" she shouted as his hand moved to make said call.

Raising an eyebrow, he growled, "What?"

"I… wanted to talk to you."

"I don't have time for–"

"No news on Mokuba?" she interrupted.

"…No." He sighed. "I've tried all possible leads, examined all possible abductors, there's _no one_ who could have done it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Keep trying."

"For how long?"

"Until I find him."

"That's not what I meant."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then what, exactly, did you mean?"

"When are you going to take a break?"

He scowled. "Don't you start that, too."

"Seto, you're going to–"

"I'm 'going to' find my brother. When he's safe, I'll have time to take a break. Maybe. And in the mean time, I don't welcome your attempts at 'mother-son' bonding, or whatever it is you're trying to do." He glared at her, then took a sip from the mug in his hand.

Curiosity overcoming her, she asked, "What are you drinking?"

He frowned, but saw no reason not to reply. "Tea." He took another sip, almost wincing at the bitter taste. "Very strong."

"To help you stay awake?"

"Perhaps. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He spun around in his chair, pointedly ignoring her, and began to once more absorb the information that his machines provided him.

Joan sighed. So much for convincing him to take care of himself. Carlson had been right. She turned around, but hesitated before leaving. "I wish I knew why you hate me so much," she said quietly. Not expecting a reply, she walked towards the door.

His voice stopped her. "He never recovered, you know."

She stopped, turning around to face him. He wasn't looking at her; his position hadn't even changed. She almost thought that she'd imagined his voice, but she knew that she hadn't. "What?"

"Dad. He never recovered. After you left." His voice was bitter, carrying the pain of over a decade of loss, and he spoke haltingly, as if he was forcing the words out.

'After you left…' Did that mean that he finally believed her? Hope rose in her chest, despite the dismal circumstances. Now all she had to do was get him to accept her.

She walked towards him, stopping at the edge of his desk. "Seto…"

"He shrank into himself," he continued, ignoring her. "He had no more will to live. He woke up in the morning when his alarm went off, ate whatever I put in front of him for breakfast, and went to work. I don't know what he did there. He came home in the evening, collapsed in front of the television, and if I insisted enough, he ate dinner and went to bed. Hardly spoke. Never cared about the fact that he had two sons who still needed him."

Joan was silent as his words sank in, not knowing what to say to this. She wasn't even sure that Seto still knew she was in the room anymore as he continued his narrative, his eyes staring at his computers but not really seeing them.

"I did everything. Even before he died, I did everything. I raised Mokuba. I couldn't stay in school, not with an infant at home that would have _died_ if someone hadn't taken care of him. Because you killed him." He looked at her for the first time since he'd started to speak. "You killed Dad. Just because we wouldn't bury him for three more years doesn't mean he was alive. He was a shell. Just a shell. That's all. He wasn't my father anymore. My father was strong. I can _remember_ my father. And that's not who he was. I don't know who he was, what he was, but he wasn't my father.

"And the same thing will happen to me. If I can't find Mokuba, _if I fail him_, what will I have to live for? What _right_ will I have to live?" His voice dropped, the force behind it ebbing away, leaving only his pain. "That kid's the only reason I have to get up in the morning."

He drew in a shuddering breath, exhaled, and sat up straight. In an instant, the brief show of the torment that was hidden beneath the cold exterior of Seto Kaiba was gone, replaced by icy eyes and a hard expression. "I _will_ find him. I won't fail; failure is unacceptable."

Joan didn't speak. What could she say? Feeling the need to say something, _anything_, she took a half step forward. "Seto…"

"'Seto' _what_?"

"…I'm sorry."

It was the wrong thing to say. He stiffened angrily, his eyes narrowing. "'Sorry?'" he repeated. "'_Sorry_?' No. 'Sorry' is what a secretary says when they forget to put an important date in my schedule and they don't want me to fire them. '_Sorry'_ is what a business associate says when they mess something up and they don't want me to terminate the partnership. 'Sorry' is what," he choked, then continued, "is what my little brother says when he breaks curfew, or when he says something he doesn't mean, or when he accidentally breaks the priceless vase in the hall, and he doesn't want me to ground him." He set the tea down, his hands gripping the arms of his chair with a white knuckled grasp as, furious, the forced himself to his feet. "'_Sorry_' is _not_ what _you_ say after you disappear and subsequently send my life to hell! Because that's where it went!

"…Do you honestly think 'sorry' is going to make a difference?"

He was breathing raggedly, and sweat dotted his forehead. Two days of constant worry about his brother, combined with lack of sleep and food, had left him drained. With a small, most un-Kaiba-like groan, he sank back into his chair.

Worry for him flared up again. She hurried forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Don't–" He jerked away from her. "Don't touch me."

Joan stood up, coming to a decision. He was going to make himself sick or worse if he didn't take a break; she understood how urgent it was to find Mokuba, but this was ridiculous. She and Carlson had both tried pleading with him, Carlson going to so far as to bring him something to eat so that he would not have to stop. Seto had returned their worry with harsh words and a stubbornness the likes of which she had never seen. It was time to try a new method.

"Look at you!" she growled, forcing scorn into her voice. "You can barely stand, and you want me leave you alone?"

"Are you _mocking me_?" He laughed, acrimoniously. "Of course. It figures. I go and rat you out for abandoning us, and you _mock me_."

She resisted the urge to bite her lip, not wanting to drop her act. He would see right through her if she did, and her last chance of convincing him to take a break would be gone. She made a mental note to have a long talk with him after all of this was over. Perhaps she could take away some of his pain.

"What did you expect me to do?" she persisted, being sure to keep the ridicule in her voice. "Pity you? Do you want me to _pity you_, Mr. CEO?"

His eyes flashed angrily. "What I _want_ is for you to leave me the hell alone!"

"And let you kill yourself?"

"I'm not killing myself."

"Aren't you? You're not eating and you're not sleeping. Both of those are essential to sustain human life."

"That's not what matters! Mokuba is all that matters."

"And how will making yourself sick help Mokuba? I repeat, Seto: _You can barely stand up_. Even if you find him, how do you intend to rescue him when you won't be able to walk? Look at you! You're tired, you're weak, you have to use _caffeine_ to keep yourself functional! How will that help him?"

"First off," he growled through clenched teeth, "it's _when_ I find him, not _if_. As to everything else…"

"Yes?"

"…I'll deal with that when the time comes."

"Will you?"

"…"

"Seto… What would Mokuba say if he saw you now?"

His eyes grew distant, obviously imagining such a situation. He didn't answer.

"I don't know your brother, Seto. I don't know either of you. But from what I saw the night I came to your office, Mokuba would tell you to _take a break_. He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself for him."

Seto bowed his head, eyes closed in thought. "Mokuba…"

Joan was silent, watching him hopefully. Was it working?

Seto raised his head again, opening his eyes. She waited for him to say something, but he didn't speak. Instead, he once more gripped the arms of his chair, slowly rising to his feet. He took a few steps towards the door before his knees started to give out. His hand shot out, grabbing the edge of his desk for support, lest he fall. He took another step, then leaned heavily on the desk, trying to find the strength to take himself further.

Joan stepped up to him. "Let me help you, Seto."

He didn't reply, but neither did he protest when she took his arm and slung it around her shoulders, letting him lean on her for support. Slowly, they made their way out of the room and up the stairs, Willy following closely behind.

* * *

Carlson sighed in aggravation. He couldn't find Joan anywhere, and he had checked all of the likely places and a few _un_likely places several times. He ran a hand through his short hair, fiddled absently with his shades, and looked about him. 

He was standing just outside the Kaiba mansion master bedroom, where Mr. Kaiba slept. Joan was certainly nowhere around here.

He turned, about to head down the hall, and was barely able to stop his jaw from dropping in astonishment. There, walking slowly towards him from the opposite end of the hallway, was Joan, supporting a very tired looking Mr. Kaiba. The golden retriever was close behind them, watching Mr. Kaiba with a worry that Carlson hadn't known a dog could possess.

"Mr.… Kaiba?"

The CEOignored him. He walked a few more paces using Joan has his support, before pulling his arm from around her shoulders and staggering forwards the last few paces himself. He stopped when he reached his door, holding onto the knob to keep himself on his feet, breathing heavily.

"Carlson… If I'm not… up in a few hours… wake me. We can't afford to… wait too long." Without even waiting for a reply, he opened the door and stepped inside, pausing only for the dog to slip in before slamming the door behind him.

* * *

A/N: Whoo! Go me! I finished it two days ahead of schedule! Booya! Everyone thank Caorann fridh Brónach, because of she hadn't asked really, really annoyingly, er, I mean, nicely, I would have waited 'til Friday anyway... 

And if Seto seems a _teensy bit_ out of character, well, I blame the fact that he's gone two days without eating/sleeping and he has no clue what's happening to his brother. According to my dad, that's enough to cause some people to start to hallucinate. Poor Seto-kun's bound to not be feeling himself.

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	13. Torture Chamber

Disclaimer: Yes. It's mine. It's _all_ mine. I own _Yu Gi Oh!_ and everything else that you consider to be of value. Even you. I keep the creators of _Yu Gi Oh!_ locked up in my closet and force them to work for me and me alone. I keep _you_ locked up in my closet, too, but I'm so good at doing it that you _think_ you're free. Or… maybe _I'm_ the one locked up in the closet. (knocks on closet door) Help, I'm claustrophobic! If I admit that I really _don't_ own_ Yu Gi Oh!_, will you let me out?

* * *

It was strange. Darkness everywhere. He seemed to be experiencing darkness a lot lately. There was a furious pounding in his head, the likes of which he had never experienced before. Now he knew how his brother felt when he was working too hard and they were out of Aspirin. 

Mokuba opened his eyes. He expected to be blinded by a bright light that would increase the pain in his head and cause him to need blink several times to get his eyes to adjust. He was surprised, then, when there was no difference between his eyes being open and his eyes being closed.

His stomach clenched. Was he to be cursed with blindness now, as well as that thrice damned wheelchair? Then, very slowly, he began to be able to pick out vague shapes around him. He was not blinded, then; merely in a very dark room. But why?

Memory came rushing back. He sighed in frustration upon realizing that he had once again been kidnapped. He also realized that escape would be much more difficult this time. He could not run, could not climb, and could not fight. His only hope, he recognized, was probably to be rescued.

The boy grit his teeth, fighting back tears. Would he be forced to depend on others for the rest of his life?

Perhaps not, he decided. Perhaps he _would_ be able to free himself. In any event, his first course of action should be to figure out where exactly he was.

He started to sit up, but then thought better of it. Whoever had abducted him might be watching, and alerting them to the fact that he had awakened wouldn't be the healthiest of decisions.

The young vice president took in his surroundings as well as he could from his position on the floor. As he had previously noted, it was dark. It was also dank, and a musky scent reached his nostrils. The entire place had the feel of a cave or dungeon. The floor beneath him felt manmade, too smooth to be a natural cave. If experience was anything to go by, it was probably a dungeon.

Other than the throbbing in his head, the usual stiffness that unused muscles tended to acquire, and a few minor pains, probably from bruises that he had gotten during the no doubt rough treatment his captors had given him, he appeared to be uninjured. That was a relief. It was always better to face such a situation in as healthy a condition as possible.

He was startled out of his assessment by the sound of heavy footsteps in the distance. He quickly shut his eyes as a door somewhere off to his right creaked open, admitting the owner of the footsteps.

They approached him, stopping just next to him. Mokuba gave his best impersonation of an unconscious person, breathing slowly and doing his best to keep his muscles from tensing.

"Get up," a gruff, male voice sounded from above him. "I know you're awake."

Mokuba shivered at the certainty in the voice, but he didn't move.

Suddenly, a pain erupted in his side, the breath escaping his lungs as a booted foot kicked him in the ribs. His eyes flew open as the force of the blow sent him skidding away from his attacker. He coughed, curling around his side and struggling to regain his wind.

"There," said the man, a definite smirk in his tone. "I knew you'd see it my way. Now get up."

Mokuba opened his eyes and glared defiantly, his breathing finally under control. In the light from the open door, he could see that his earlier guess had been correct – now that he could see them, his surroundings stank of dungeon.

He could also vaguely see the man towering above him. Though he was mainly a silhouette, the boy noticed one key thing: he was huge. Extremely so, as a matter of fact. Assuming that it was typical villains he was facing, this was only a minion, perhaps some kind of bodyguard for the mastermind.

"I said _stand up_," the man growled again. Mokuba rolled his eyes. Definitely not the brightest bulb in the socket. Didn't this idiot know that he _couldn't_ stand up?

Apparently not. He stormed over to the boy, picked him up by the scruff of his shirt's neck, and set him on his feet. As soon as he let go, prepared to shove his prisoner out the door and towards whatever fate awaited him there, Mokuba's legs crumpled, sending him rudely to the ground.

The man cursed and bent down to try again, but another voice stopped him.

"You idiot. Don't you remember the boy can't walk? You need to carry him." Then, slightly quieter but with no attempt to hide it, whoever was out there muttered, "Moron…"

The man in the dungeon scowled, scooped the twelve-year-old up, and threw him roughly over one shoulder, taking no precautions to be sure that his cargo wasn't damaged in the act.

Mokuba's eyes narrowed. He shut off the pain at the fact that even his abductors needed to help him get to wherever it was they were going. Such feelings would only get in the way. If his brother could ignore unnecessary emotions, so could he. He needed to concentrate on finding a way to escape, and self-pity wouldn't help him there.

He thought back to the person that had informed the guard of his predicament. Somehow, he didn't think that the owner was the one behind all of this, either. There wasn't enough command in the voice for them to be in charge of something. They were probably just another guard who had a better memory for briefings than the one carrying him did.

That, of course, meant that the boy didn't have even the faintest clue as to what he was up against.

Mokuba blinked in surprise when the guard stopped. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed that the path they had been following had been sloping gently upwards, and that the dark, slightly slimy stone walls and floor of the dungeon had given way to red carpet and decorative wallpaper. The lighting had changed as well, improving as they ascended at such a rate that the eyes easily adjusted. They now stood outside of a set of large, intricately carved wooden doors, waiting for something, perhaps permission to enter. Clearly, whoever was behind all of this was no stranger to wealth.

The guard shifted so that he held onto Mokuba with one arm and knocked on the door with the other.

"Come in," a deep, cold voice sounded from inside the room.

Mokuba froze, a cold chill running through him. He had never heard that voice before, so he was just as in the dark as to whom his captor was as he had been a minute before, but the sheer malevolence in the tone frightened him. Whoever had spoken was pure evil, he had no doubt. The voice had also held command and power, something that the guards had lacked, and the boy knew that he had found the person in command of his kidnapping. He tried and failed to suppress a shudder as the guard opened the door and stepped inside. He wondered if he would leave that room alive.

The guard tread across the room, then set Mokuba down none-to-gently in a high-backed chair in front of a desk. As he bowed to whoever sat behind it and turned to walk away, the raven-haired boy looked about him.

He was clearly in an office of some kind. The carpet beneath his feet held the same red tint as the one outside the room, though the walls were a deep mahogany instead of the elaborate wallpaper that he had seen before. He looked at the desk in front of him. It was beautifully carved, and in a normal circumstance he might have found himself studying it with interest. This was not a normal situation, however, and he quickly raised his gaze to the man sitting behind the desk.

He was somehow not surprised to find that the only thing he could see was a dark, shady figure hiding in the shadows, with only a pair of bright eyes really visible. He met those eyes, long practice with his brother giving him the ability to do so without flinching, though it was a near thing.

"Welcome, Mr. Kaiba," the figure spoke again, and Mokuba blinked to break his gaze, if only for a moment.

"Who are you?" he asked, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. He folded his hands in his lap to hid their shaking, feeling like an unfortunate employee facing his brother in his office.

"Names are irrelevant, Mr. Kaiba. You may call me Shade."

Trying to think of what Seto would do in such a situation, Mokuba put as much sarcasm as he could manage at the moment into his reply. "Certainly fitting."

The figure laughed quietly, a malicious, terrible sound. "Yes, I think so."

"What do you want?"

"We want _you_, Mr. Kaiba."

Mokuba swallowed, again forcing sarcasm into his tone. Sarcasm was safe, he remembered his brother saying to him once when asked why he used it all the time. It hid what you were really thinking and feeling, and it intimidated those who couldn't comprehend the user (not that this Shade was one of them). It was useful shield. Those hadn't been his exact words, but that was the gist. "Yeah, I got that part, unless of course your hit man just so happened to grab the wrong kid. _Why_ do you want me so much?"

Shade chuckled again. "I like you, Mr. Kaiba. Always cutting to the chase, aren't you? What a shame… No matter."

Mokuba tensed as he stood. What was he doing?

Shade raised his hands, clapping them together once. Mokuba jumped, startled, as two guards, different than the one that had brought him here, grabbed him, each one taking one of his arms and lifting him up. He hadn't noticed them come in, and he certainly hadn't noticed them standing behind him.

He watched as Shade walked over to the far wall, somehow never seeming to leave the shadows. He placed his hand on the wall and did something that Mokuba couldn't see in the darkness. With a whooshing sound, a door slid open, revealing a small room, much like the dungeon he had been in before, though he was fairly certain that it wasn't the same place.

Shade stepped inside the room, and the two guards carrying Mokuba followed. His feet dragged alone the floor as the walked, but there was nothing he could do about that.

When they entered the room, Mokuba's heart skipped a beat as its details, which he had not been able to see from outside, were revealed to him.

It was a torture chamber. The various machines and implements of pain around the room made that quite clear. The blood drained from his face, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He had been kidnapped, brainwashed, and worse many times before, but he had never been _tortured_.

The guards carried him over to what looked like a metal barrel, lying on its side. One end had been flattened so that it didn't roll away. They systematically lay him facedown on the barrel, pulled off his shirt, and fastened his hands to manacles that were connected by chains to the floor. They did the same to his legs, probably out of habit. When they were finished, Mokuba was stretched tight out over the curve of the barrel.

He tried to raise himself to look at Shade, but the chains were too tight – the guards had left no slack. He could only lift his head as he asked in a small voice, no longer caring that he sounded like a child. "W-what are you doing?"

The dark man shrugged. "Isn't it obvious?"

Mokuba took a few calming breaths. He might be able to talk himself out of this. "Whatever it is you think you'll learn from torturing me, don't waste your time. I don't know anything."

"What makes you think I want to know something?"

Mokuba gaped at him. "If… If you don't want to torture any information out of me, then why…?"

"Simple, my dear boy. If I don't let my men have some fun once in a while, they get awfully rowdy, and I can't have that."

Mokuba felt lightheaded. "So… did you _just_ kidnap me to… to…"

"Of course not!" Shade sounded mildly surprised. "I could have had anyone to do _that_. You, Mr. Kaiba, are special. I have a _special_ purpose for you."

"And that would be…?"

"It's simple. By taking you, Mr. Kaiba, I catch the attention of someone who is very much interested in your wellbeing."

Mokuba's eyes narrowed at him. Determinedly, he told him, "My brother will find a way to rescue me without giving you what you want."

Again, Shade sounded slightly surprised. "Your brother?" He laughed. "My dear boy! What makes you think we want your _brother_?" He turned to the guards who were now standing in the doorway. "Don't kill him. He's no good to me dead." With that, he turned and left the room.

One of the guards stepped forward and brought a nightstick that crackled with electricity down on Mokuba's bare back. The twelve-year-old screamed in agony, completely unprepared for the pain that coursed through him.

Another guard struck him, and another, their choice of weapons different but the pain they caused the same. The small boy wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep himself conscious. He also wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to remain conscious.

He managed to think only one thought before sweet blackness claimed him. _If they don't want my brother_…_ Then who_…


	14. Memory

Disclaimer: (knocks on door of closet) Oi! I'm still stuck in here, by the way!

Mokuba: (opens door)

Tawnykit: Thanks! Because _Moki_ (glares at readers) was kind enough to let me out, I shall admit that I don't own _Yu Gi Oh!_.

A/N: Right, I wrote most of this chapter at four o'clock in the morning. As a matter of fact, it is exactly 4:05 am Eastern Standard Time as I write this sentence. If it wasn't for a rather large quantity of green tea, I'd have dosed off over my keyboard a long time ago. Do I feel like Seto Kaiba, or what? (smirk)

Hey, look! Now it's 4:0_7_ am!

Anyway, if there are more typos than usual, that's why. So don't lock me in the closet again. (starts to sweat at the thought)

* * *

Joan stood outside of the door, uncertain of whether or not to enter. She glanced at her watch. By the dim light in the hallway, she could see that it was nearing three o'clock in the morning. 

She had no intention of waking the teen that slept inside that room. He certainly needed the rest. But the desire to see him had overcome her.

She opened the door. It was dark inside, though it was not impossible to see. A small nightlight aglow in one corner of the room provided enough light that she could keep from tripping over things as she walked towards the bed. She vaguely remembered Carlson saying something about both Kaiba brothers being troubled by nightmares from the many horrors they had been forced to live through. She supposed that the light helped keep them at bay. Pity welled up in her heart, combined with guilt. It was her fault they had had to endure such scarring things, most of which she knew nothing of. If she hadn't left them alone, they would have been safe. She hadn't had a choice, but that didn't make it any less her fault.

She looked around the room. She smiled slightly, shaking her head, when she saw his trench coat thrown untidily across a chair. _Typical teenager_… she thought. _Though somehow I doubt that he'd be that disorderly if he wasn't about to collapse from exhaustion._ Still smiling, she crept quietly over to the chair, picked up the coat, and folded it neatly, draping it over the back of the chair when she was finished.

She tiptoed over to the bed. Her smile grew when she saw them sleeping there. Seto Kaiba, dreaded CEO of a multinational company, was sound asleep among the royal blue blankets. He hadn't bothered to change out of his clothes, so he still wore the black turtleneck and leggings. Willy, faithful as always, was curled up next to him, his head resting on the boy's chest.

_They look so peaceful_, she mused fondly. Seto created a perfect illusion of innocence as he slept. The natural shield of ice that he usually wore was discarded, and the golden retriever added an almost childlike quality to the scene.

She sighed. It was a shame that that innocence really _was_ just an illusion, that it would be shattered when he woke. Still, she couldn't help but take heart in the fact that, for a short time at least, he could be like any other boy his age.

In a show of affection that he would never allow had he been awake, she bent down and tenderly kissed his forehead, careful not to wake him. "Sweet dreams, Seto my son," she whispered, much as she had when he had been a small child.

She straightened, walking noiselessly back to the entrance of the bedroom. She opened the door, the light from the hall flooding in and illuminating the area around her feet with a golden glow, so different from the blue-white radiance that his computers generated. She looked back once, wondering what he was dreaming as she stepped out and closed the door softly behind her.

* * *

"_Seto! Seto, quickly, get up!"_

_He stirred slightly, mumbling something._

_"Seto, you _must_ wake up, son!"_

_He opened his eyes. There was a figure leaning over him, watching him anxiously._

_Unlike the other memories he had experienced recently, this flashback was not faded, filled with shadows from a past half remembered. This memory was painfully branded within him, its sharpness not dulled with time. He could easily recognize the face, and knew it just as he knew what his response would be._

"_Daddy?"_

"_Seto, quickly, get dressed."_

"_Daddy_..._? What's wrong?"_

"_You're mother_..._" The man didn't give him a further explanation, but Seto knew what was wrong. He hadn't then, of course, but now he could never forget it._

_He tried, unsuccessfully, to wake himself from his dream. It would be painful, if he didn't. Meeting a solid wall of resistance from the reality he knew was just beyond his reach, feeling his body throw the blankets off of him and scramble out of bed as if it had a will of its own, he succumbed to his fate, letting the remembrance sweep him away…_

The little boy threw his blankets off, ignoring the way they fell to the floor. His father had already grabbed his coat and shoes, and was holding them out to him.

"Thought you said t' get dressed?" he mumbled, still only half awake.

"No time. Just put these on; it'll be okay."

What would be okay? Wearing a coat over his pajamas? Or whatever had his father so upset?

He shrugged on his coat and shoved his feet into his sneakers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he did so. His father scooped him up before he had even fully finished, carrying him at a breakneck pace out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Seto asked again, feeling confused and a little frightened. "What's happening?"

His father didn't answer. They reached the front door, and he stopped only to shift his young son to one arm so that he could open the door with the other. Once that was done, he sprinted down to the car. He opened the door to the backseat, placed the five-year-old inside, slammed the door shut, and scrambled into the driver's seat. With the speed of a man possessed, he backed the car out of the driveway and raced off into the night.

_Still observing from deep within his younger self, Seto Kaiba watched the next scene unfold. He saw the small boy that he had once been scramble around in the seat, remembering to buckle his seatbelt as he had always been taught, and turn to look at the person in the next seat. He remembered the horror he had felt as he had observed his mother._

_Seto Kaiba felt ice water run through his veins as he took the woman in. She was younger than the last time he had seen her, and her face was contorted with pain. Sweat-drenched hair hung messily in her face. Despite all of this, she was still easy to identify._

_It was Joan._

"Mommy?" Seto stared in shock. He had never seen his mother like this before. "What was wrong? What was happening?

He crawled over to her, moving as far as his seatbelt would allow. He touched her shoulder. "Mommy? Are you okay?"

She raised her head, looking at him through pain-filled eyes. "S-seto… Don't worry… It'll be okay…" she gasped out.

"_What_'ll be okay? I don't understand! Mommy, what's going on? Why's Daddy so worried? Are you okay?"

She doubled over in pain, gasping, then focused on him again. "Seto… Be strong…"

"…Okay, Mommy." He still didn't understand, but she looked like she needed to hear him say that. He added, "I love you, Mommy."

"…Love you too, Seto…" She leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes in pain.

Seto wasn't sure how long the car ride lasted. The next thing he knew, his father was pulling in at an enormous white building. The man hurriedly turned off and exited the vehicle, not even bothering to park it. Still moving with unnatural speed, he tore around to the side of the car that his wife was sitting in, opening the door and assisting her in getting out. They moved as fast as she could handle, leaving the five-year-old struggling out of the car after them.

_His mind balked as he watched himself run after them into the hospital. It had been bad enough watching his mother die in childbirth once; was he now to be forced to experience it again?_

_He once more struggled to wake, but as before, he was unable to drag himself back to reality..._

Seto slowed as he stepped through the revolving doors. He looked around, panicked to find that he could spot no sight of his parents. Gazing around him, he could see people bustling everywhere, surrounded by white walls, white floors, and white ceilings. He ducked his head and looked at the floor, feeling very small as not one of those people looked his way.

He didn't know what this place was, or why he was here. He didn't know what was wrong with his mother. He didn't even know where his parents were.

'_Seto_…_ Be strong_…_'_ That's what his mother had said. He raised his head, his eyes now filled with determination.

There was a large desk across the room, where he could see numerous people approaching a woman that sat behind it. Was she the one to talk to?

He approached the desk. There was a line of people in front of it, but one could hardly expect a five-year-old to know about lines. He pushed his way to the front, looking up. He couldn't even see the woman from his position here.

"Excuse me?" he asked. Receiving no reply, he circled around to the other side of the desk.

Now he could see her, a young woman in a white uniform. He walked up to her, tugging at her shirt gently to gain her attention. "Excuse me?" he repeated.

She looked down at him, startled. She smiled at him, a gesture he tentatively returned. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, then looked back at whoever she had been speaking to before. "Could you hold on one moment, please?"

He didn't hear the response, but the woman knelt down next to him. "Hey there," she said. "Are you lost?"

He nodded.

"Do you know if your parents are in the hospital?"

Hospital? Was that what this was? He had heard of hospitals before, though he had never been to one. "I think so," he answered her in a small voice. "Something's wrong with Mommy," he added.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He hesitated, recalling what he had been told about never telling his name to strangers. Surely this was different though?

"Seto," he whispered.

"Okay, Seto," she said in a reassuring tone. "My name is Julie. I'm going to try to help you."

"Okay," he said, once more barely above a whisper. He felt some satisfaction at the fact that he had managed to get what he needed all by himself. _I told you I'd be strong, Mommy._

_Had Seto Kaiba had a physical body other than that of the small child, he would have been glaring at the image. It was breaking up on him, becoming hazier as his memory faded._

'_Why is it,' he thought, 'that I have to go through this, but then when we get to the point that could actually be_ useful _to me, time has dulled my damn memory so that I can't remember!_

'_Won't remember?_

'_What actually happened that night!'_

_He had brief flashes of the nurse Julie taking his younger self somewhere in the hospital, and of eventually being brought to a small room, much like he where he had recently waited for news on his brother._

_He had a perception of a many hour wait, and vaguely recalled that the kindly nurse had stayed with him throughout it._

_He saw himself look up as a door opened, admitting his father. 'This is it_…_' He tried to focus on the image, awaiting his father's news as much anticipation as he had all those years ago_…

Seto Kaiba's eyes snapped open.

He sat up, blinking in the darkness. He found he was breathing heavily and sweating slightly, a side effect of reliving the drama of that night. Despite this, he felt strangely rejuvenated. Apparently he had needed the sleep more than he had thought.

There was a woofing sound next to him; he turned his head and saw Willy watching him.

He fondled absently at the dog's ears, frustration coursing through him. _What the hell happened? Why can't I remember?_ He fell back against the pillows, closing his eyes. "Damn it…"

He opened his eyes again, this time narrowed in determination. He didn't know the answers to his questions… but he just might know someone who did.

Joan had some talking to do.

* * *

A/N: (snicker) Heh, sorry. "Julie" is an inside joke between my friend Merton and I. She's this really nice nurse at the local insane asylum, you see – makes _great_ pudding. 

Mokuba: Hey, what about me?

Tawnykit: What? You want some pudding?

Mokuba: No, no, I mean, why is my brother having stupid flashbacks when he should be rescuing me?

Tawnykit: Don't be selfish, Moki.

Mokuba: _Selfish!_ They're bloody _torturing_ me!

Tawnykit: Details, details...

Mokuba: …You're annoying.

Tawnykit: You're the one who's choosing to hang out here, kiddo. Anyway, just bare with me. If I'm not mistaken, I should be revealing the ultimate evil next chapter. Or maybe the one after that, but definitely by then.

Mokuba: I'm not going to like this, am I?

Tawnykit: Nope!


	15. No Accident

Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Do you really need me to point out to you that I don't, haven't, and never will own _Yu Gi Oh!_? No? Good. I didn't think so. I do own this story, though. Don't steal it – if you do, I'll be forced to let my yami steal your soul. Yami likes stealing souls…

* * *

Joan looked down at the object she held in her hands. 

She had become bored several hours earlier. Carlson had left early in the morning, not even telling her where he had gone. Seto was still asleep, and there was nothing she could do to help in the search for Mokuba. She had begun to wander around the mansion, looking at the various odds and ends that cluttered the large house.

She had found an old room, which judging by the amount of dust that coated the floor and moth bitten furniture, hadn't been seen by human eyes in decades. The part that surprised her the most was that it appeared to have once been a child's bedroom. Fascinated, she had searched the room for any clues as to who had lived there.

She had found it in a dresser drawer, shoved in the back, as if the person who had long ago inhabited in this room had wanted to hide it even from themselves.

It was a photograph. It was clearly old: its colors were faded, and it sported multiple folds and tears. Even so, the image was still fairly easy to make out.

A child, no doubt the owner of the room, beamed back at her, sea green hair gleaming in the sun. A man stood next to the boy, glaring at the camera.

Joan frowned. Who were they? Why had the photograph been hidden away? And, most importantly, why had she taken an instant disliking to the man, even though she had never met him and didn't even know who he was?

"What are you doing here?" a voice growled from the doorway behind her. She jumped, startled. She hadn't heard her son enter the room.

"Seto! You're awake! Are you feeling better?" she asked. He certainly _looked_ better. The color had returned to his face, fire once more burned in his eyes, and he was standing up straight, without assistance. Ever present, Willy sat at his feet, panting happily.

"I'm fine," Seto bit out. He came towards her, narrowing his eyes at the picture in her hands. He reached out, took it from her, and gazed at it for a minute.

Suddenly he scowled, hatred, pain, and even a trace of fear flashing across his eyes before being hidden away. "I thought I told Carlson to burn all of these," he muttered.

"Why?" she asked. "Who are they?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes on the picture as his hand scratched Willy's head. Finally, he spoke. "Gozaburo Kaiba. And his son, Noa."

"Gozaburo…? Isn't he the one who…?" She looked at Seto, not finishing her question. He was holding the picture with a white knuckled grip, crinkling the edges.

"It doesn't matter," he growled. "Where did you get this?"

"It was in that drawer over there." She pointed at the dresser.

He walked over to the dresser, pulling open the offending drawer to be sure that there weren't any other nasty surprises hidden there. There were not.

Satisfied, he turned to her. "Don't you know it's rude to go poking through other people's belongings?"

Joan raised her eyebrows. "It doesn't look like anyone's been in this room in years."

"You're right there," he said, looking about him. "This was Noa's room, if I'm not mistaken. I don't think anyone's touched it since he… died."

"What happened to him?" she asked.

Seto shook his head. "None of your business." He spun on his heel, walking to the door. He paused when he reached it. "You shouldn't even be here. Come with me."

She hurried to follow him, not wanting to become lost. He led her back to the sitting room from the day before.

He stood in the center of the room, once more staring at the picture. She sat down in one of the chairs, watching him. Silently, he lifted his head, crumpling the picture into a ball in his hand. He then stalked over to a desk that stood in the corner of the room, searching through one of its drawers for something.

Finding whatever he was looking for, he walked to the fireplace that was set in the far wall and knelt beside it. He placed the picture ball in the ashes that lined the floor of the fireplace.

Joan realized that what he had retrieved from the desk was a book of matches only when he pulled one free and struck it. An orange glow formed at his fingertips as he leaned forward, setting the flaming match against the photograph. It quickly caught light, and Seto sat back, watching it burn.

When the flames had died out and the photo had been reduced to nothing more than a blackened pile of shriveled ash, he slowly rose to his feet, placing the matchbook in his trench coat pocket. He walked over to a chair near hers and sank down into it.

He was silent for a long time, his hands on his knees and his head resting against the back of the chair, his eyes staring unseeingly into the distance. Finally, he spoke.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do."

She blinked, surprised. "Not that I don't want to tell you, but shouldn't we be looking for Mokuba?"

He glared at her. "As you so kindly pointed out last night, everything I was trying was getting us _no where_. I need to think of a new plan. While I'm doing that, I see no reason why you shouldn't talk. How are you still alive?"

"Won't me talking distract you from thinking?" She knew that she had to tell him, but she was hardly enthusiastic about the task.

"I excel at multitasking," he growled.

She sighed. "Very well. First… may I ask what changed your mind? What convinced you that I wasn't lying?"

"Sure you can ask. That doesn't mean you'll get an answer."

She shook her head at him, smiling ruefully. "Of course." Taking a deep breath, she began with a question of her own. "What do you know of… what happened?"

He shrugged. "Apparently nothing. I was told you died in childbirth. I had no reason to assume differently. It would appear, however, that I was wrong."

"What can you remember?"

He hesitated, his hands clenching on his knees. Though there was no way for Joan to know it, he was thinking back to his most recent memory/dream. "My memories are… vague. Distorted. Faded," he said at last. "The fact that I was so young that I didn't understand most of what was happening at the time doesn't help. I can remember… Dad waking me up… the ride to the hospital… You both went inside without me," he added dryly. "I remember going to one of the nurses, and being led to a waiting room. And waiting. And then…"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. I can't remember anything after that. Except for…"

"Except for what?" she pressed.

"No… it's nothing. It's not important." His expression had softened ever so slightly, though there was a trace of sadness in his eyes, and she somehow knew that he was thinking of Mokuba. Then it was gone, and his face was hidden behind his mask once more.

He looked at her. "I always assumed there had been some kind of complication–"

She cut him off. "There were no complications. Everything went smoothly, at least as smoothly as labor ever goes."

He looked down at his hands. "But then… why?"

Joan ran a hand through her ponytail. "That's a… complicated story, Seto. I can't tell you all of it. I want to, but I can't."

He sat up straight, fury in his eyes. "Ex_cuse_ me? You leave us alone for twelve Duel-Monsters-be-damned years, put us through hell like you wouldn't believe, and you won't even say _why_? I think I have a right to know–"

"I _know_ you do, Seto! I want to tell you, I really do, but I _can't_." Tears pricked at her eyes, and she blinked them away.

He sat back in his chair, still angry, but under control now. Sighing, he said, "What _can_ you tell me?" He folded his arms across his chest as he waited for her speak.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Like I said, there were no complications. Everything went smoothly. I stayed in the hospital for the required time period, and Mokuba and I were going to be released. Everything was going to be great." She smiled sadly, blinking back tears again.

"So what happened?"

"It was the night before we were going to come home. I remember… You were there, you know. School – well, kindergarten – had gotten out, and you and your father had been staying at the hospital with us. You came into my room and were sleeping at my side when…"

"When…?"

"I… I had to leave. Something came up, something that I couldn't ignore."

"You just… left?" He sounded like he didn't believe her.

"You don't understand, Seto. You _can't_ understand–"

"Then_ make me understand!_"

"_I can't!_ It would put you in danger–"

"Bloody hell, woman, I'm used to danger!"

"Not like this!"

"I doubt that."

They were silent for a moment. When Seto finally spoke, his voice was quiet. "You just… left? In the middle of the night?"

"There was something I thought I was done with, that I thought I wouldn't ever have to worry about again, but it… I couldn't abandon something that important."

"…So you abandoned us instead?"

"Seto, it nearly killed me to leave you behind. You can't know…" She stopped at the quiet, seething anger in his face.

"'Nearly killed you,' is that what you said? It 'nearly killed you? No. I don't care how hard it was, it didn't 'nearly kill you.'"

He didn't finish that thought, but she knew what it was that he refused to add. 'It nearly killed _me_.'

"Seto…" she began. "Carlson… told me a little bit about what happened to you. About what your adopted father–"

"Carlson has a big mouth," he snarled, interrupting her. "Whatever it was _Gozaburo_," he spat the name, "did is absolutely none of your concern."

"I'm your mother, Seto! Whether you like it or not, whether you like _me_ or not, that won't change! I can help you, Seto, I can–"

"I don't need your help," he said coldly. "I don't need anyone's help. I need to find my little brother, and I need you to crawl back under whatever rock you came from."

She didn't answer him. His words hurt, just like he had meant them to. She could understand his reaction; she had known that he would probably be angry at her for leaving them, but it hurt all the same.

He was silent as well, staring absently at the pile of ashes that was all that was left of the photograph. The room was still as each person became lost in their own thoughts.

The quiet stillness was abruptly broken as the door slammed open, admitting a breathless, frantic-looking Carlson. He was holding a bulky something under one arm.

Seto rose to his feet as the goon stumbled over to him. "Carlson? What the hell…? Report." The last word was a barked order as the CEO demanded to know what was going on.

"M-Mr. Kaiba! I just got back from the police, sir–"

"The police? What were you doing there?"

"Somethin'd been botherin' me, sir, I thought I'd check it out while you were sleepin', and…"

"And _what_?"

"You remember how Master Mokuba… was hit? Walkin' home from school?"

"Of course," Seto growled.

"Someone had called the office that day, sir. They were bein' a real jackass; I thought it'd be better if I took care of it instead of one of the less experienced goons, or sendin' it through to you. I had to send someone else to get him."

"Who was it that called?" he demanded.

"I don't know, sir, that's the thing. That was what was troublin' me, that and the fact that the limo never showed up. I thought it was a little suspicious that there was a call that kept me from pickin' him up. I thought I was just bein' paranoid, but now…"

"Spit it out, Carlson!"

"Yes, sir. At the time of the call, there was only one goon who wasn't busy. I was hesitant to send him, he was real new, but I didn't have any choice."

"And?"

"I checked his files this mornin', sir. He quit the day after the accident. I thought… I thought maybe he was just afraid, since Master Mokuba wouldn't have gotten hit if he'd done his job right, but then I remembered somethin' else."

"Which would be…?"

"When we were still in the hospital, sir, I remember overhearin' somethin' one of the nurses said. The car that hit Master Mokuba? There wasn't anyone in it."

"…Hit and run?"

"I thought so, sir, so I went to the police to ask them if they knew anythin'. Master Mokuba was hit on a fairly busy street, sir, and there were a lot of people watchin'. No one saw anyone get out of the car."

Seto's eyes widened, his face paling. "But that would mean…"

Joan frowned. "I don't understand. What does it mean?"

"It means someone did this on purpose," Seto said. His voice was deathly quiet at first, but it gained force as he spoke, his tone becoming angry. "It mean that someone _wanted_ this to happen."

Joan gasped. "But…!"

Seto began to pace, his eyes narrowed in angry thought. "How could I have missed it? It all makes sense now. A phone call that tied up Carlson – I remember him telling me about it – Mokuba walking home from school, the kidnapping… The goon you sent must have been working for them, Carlson, that's why he was new, and why he quit after his job was done. He was placed there for the sole purpose of hurting him! They _wanted_ to hit my brother; they _wanted _him to become handicapped like this! It made him a sitting duck for their taking!"

"But how? How could they do that?"Joan asked.

"Remote control, probably," he muttered, his pacing becoming more furious.

Carlson opened his mouth as if to say something, but Joan cut him off.

"But that doesn't make sense," she protested. "How could they know that he wouldn't be killed when they hit him? They couldn't possilbly make sure that he was handicapped, and not just injured or worse!"

"No… With modern day technology and mathematical knowledge, there's undoubtedly some kind of formula that would minimize the chances of that happening enough for them to risk it. When you take into mind the speed and weight of the car, divide it by the speed and weight of whatever it is you want to hit, factor in the angle that… But there's no way to be that precise with a remote control…" He trailed off suddenly, giving Carlson a sharp look. "Except it wasn't a remote control, was it, Carlson?"

Carlson smirked and offered him the item he had brought into the room. "Took me a while to convince 'em to give it to me, but I got it, sir. They found it in the car – it was the only thing there."

Joan blinked, confused. Why was Carlson smirking? She looked at Seto and found that a slow, predatory grin was growing on his face as he reached forward and took whatever it was. He examined it, giving a low, dark chuckle. "Fools…" he murmured.

And then he was gone, Willy at his heels as he left the room with a determined stride. Still smirking, Carlson followed him.

Joan hurried after them. "Carlson?" she asked when she had caught up with him. "What's going on?"

"They've slipped up, Ma'am. They've made the biggest mistake they've could've made."

"How? What is that thing? Is it the remote he was talking about?"

"In a way," he explained. "That box is connected to a satellite, up in space. The bastards were controllin' the car from safe in their hideaway, wherever that is, but they were doin' it by satellite."

"What does that mean?" she inquired, still not understanding.

"It means we've found them."

* * *

A/N: So! How is this latest development going to help Seto find his brother? Heheh, I'm not telling yet… 

And what about Joan? I'm sure this chapter made more questions than answered them. Don't worry, you'll find out everything soon enough. All in good time, dear readers, all in good time.

Mokuba: Hey! I think you're missing the main point!

Tawnykit: Oh, yes. The ultimate evil. Told ya I'd be revealing it this chapter.

Mokuba: What, do you hate me or something! You made that happen _on purpose?_!

Tawnykit: I don't hate you, Moki. I adore you. I had to have it not be an accident.

Mokuba: (deadpan)

Tawnykit: While I wait for him to recover from the shock, I'll ask you to kindly leave a review.


	16. Severed?

Disclaimer: You don't own me. Er… I don't own you. Um, I mean, neither one of us owns each other. Or _Yu Gi Oh!_. But I do own this story. So… don't steal it, ne?

* * *

The raven-haired child lay huddled on the floor, his breath rasping in his throat. It hurt him to move, hurt him to _breathe_. The very blood pounding through his veins made him ache as his pulse echoed in his ears, sending shockwaves throbbing through his already sore head. Every muscle in his body stung with a fiery fierceness the likes of which he had never imagined. 

Well… Not _every_ muscle. Never, in the month or so since his accident, had the young Kaiba ever looked on his useless legs with anything less than sorrow and contempt. Now, his curse had turned into a marginal blessing. He felt nothing below his waist; his crushed spinal cord and broken nerves sent no burning signals to his brain. For that, he was grateful. The rest of his body certainly wasn't doing him any such favor.

His eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut in agony, slowly opened. He was met with blackness, but as before, he slowly adjusted to the dim light. He started to sit up and winced, hissing in pain as his body protested. He hastily lay back down, his stomach churning with dizzy shock.

He took a few deep breaths, willing the bile that rose in his throat to stay where it belonged and not come heaving up his throat and out of his mouth onto the cold stone floor. Under control once more, he tried to look about him without moving his head, unwilling to cause any further unnecessary pain.

He was in the cell again, the small, dark room that he had originally woken to. Someone – a guard? – must have carried him here after they had finished with their… fun.

Mokuba shuddered at the remembrance. He had not been allowed to stay in the unconscious state that their first few blows had sent him into for long. Rather, he had been dragged away from the sweet, numb blackness by any means the brutes had thought would work, usually via dumping his head rudely into a bucket of ice cold water, bringing him sputtering back to life. Then the beatings would continue. Multiple wounds bled sluggishly from various places on his body, and ugly bruises were beginning to form on his arms, torso, and even his painless legs.

And what for? Why had this happened? To amuse Shade's flunkies? Yes, but there was an underlying threat here, as well. This strange Shade could have had anyone for his games – he had said so himself – but he had chosen _Mokuba_. He had chosen the brother of one of the most powerful, dangerous men in the country, if not the world. No one in their right mind messed with Seto Kaiba or his cherished brother.

Several criminal masterminds had attempted – even succeeded at – kidnapping him before. Take Pegasus, for example. Pegasus was most definitely _not_ in his right mind, and he had had his eye fixed on Kaiba Corporation. If the best way to get what he desired was to steal the brothers' souls, well, so be it.

But _Shade_… He had claimed – or at least, implied – that his desire, whatever it was, had nothing to do with Kaiba Corporation.

That was bullshit, in Mokuba's opinion. Who didn't want to usurp the infamous CEO of Kaiba Corporation? And why else would he bother with the risky business of capturing the young vice president?

He had said that they wanted 'someone who was very much concerned' with Mokuba's wellbeing. Who else was there but Seto? The only other people who might even _care_ were Yugi Motou and his friends, and if Shade wanted Yugi for something, there were better ways to get at him than by taking _Mokuba_.

That led him back to where he had started, with a single question that made his insides ache almost as much as the rest of him:

_Why?_

With that one word, a flood of other inquiries attacked him, overwhelming his brain and demanding to be answered.

How long had he been gone? A day? A week? He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious for. Did Seto know he was gone? Was he looking for him?

_Of course he's looking for me! He _promised he growled angrily to himself. _He'll get me outta here, I know he will!_

That being the case, how close was he to finding the boy? Did he have any leads? Was he charging through the halls of this hellhole right now, trying to find the child who had been stolen away from him? Or did he sit in the dark, as Mokuba did now, struggling to figure out what had become of his beloved brother?

Mokuba had no answers.

Desperate for some kind of relief, for anything to take away his mental anguish, even if nothing could help his physical pain, he brought his hand to his throat, moving slowly so as to not aggravate his wounds any more than necessary.

He noted dimly that his shirt, torn off for the torture session, had been returned to him, but he didn't care about that. His hand groped for the one form of comfort he could possibly have left.

It was gone.

His eyes widened as his fingers were met with no chain, nothing to signify that a locket had once hung around his small neck. He dropped his hand to his heart – surely it was there; it _had_ to be…

But his locket was gone.

That was the lost straw as far as Mokuba's emotional control went. Warm, salty tears formed at the corners of his eyes, and a strangled sob escaped his lips. He didn't care if anyone was watching him, laughing at the pain they had caused him. It was gone. He had lost it. Had they taken it from him? Had it fallen off somewhere along the way?

Did it matter?

His hand closed into a fist over his heart. No, it didn't matter what had happened to it. The locket symbolized his bond with his brother, and something had severed it. That was all he needed to know. It was gone, and it took his last hope with it.

Mokuba curled into a ball, sobbing his broken heart out. Seto had abandoned him? Was that was it meant? It couldn't, no, it couldn't… Fate couldn't be _that_ cruel… Surely there was another reason; it was a coincidence, it had to be. It didn't mean anything deeper…

Did it?

"Seto…" he moaned. "Big brother… Don't forget about me… Don't leave me here… Please come for me… Please…" Slowly, his eyes drooped, and his head nodded. He cried himself into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a place not too far from the dark little cell and its despairing prisoner, but for all intents and purposes a universe away, a teenaged boy strode triumphantly through the halls of a magnificent white mansion, clutching the device that would soon become his savior. Seto Kaiba's eyes glittered predatorily, and he tightened his grip around the transmitter. His other hand closed around the small Duel Monsters locket about his neck, and he was painfully aware of the other locket, a great weight in his pocket. 

_Don't worry, Mokuba_, he thought. _I'm coming_.


	17. Eureka

Disclaimer: If I owned _Yu Gi Oh!_, Seto or Mokuba Kaiba, or any other part of the show… Well, let's just say that things would be _very _different. (sigh) I can dream, can't I?

A/N: I have no idea if the method Seto uses to find Mokuba would actually work. I know next to nothing about satellites; the little I do know was from a middle school technology class. Do not try this at home; something bad might happen. You have been warned.

On GPS: I actually did _research_ for this section of the story. Y'all'd better appreciate it.

(clears throat) GPS stands for Global Positioning System. It is a system set up by the United States military that tells anyone who has access to it (via a handheld device or some other receiver) their latitude and longitude (a.k.a. wherever they are on the globe). There are twenty-eight satellites in orbit around the earth that are part of the GPS, though only six of them are in operation at any given time. They send transmissions to the receivers, which decipher your absolute location judging on how long the transmission takes to reach the receiver.

It wasn't until a tragedy involving a Korean airplane accidentally flying into Russian airspace and being destroyed (they believed it to be a threat), killing all 260 people onboard, that the military released GPS for civilian use. Nowadays, everything from airplanes to cars to you and me can have a GPS receiver (if you can afford it).

At first, the military intentionally scrambled the civilian signal for security reasons, resulting in a reading that was slightly off (approximately over ten yards – though I say meters in this 'cause it takes place in Japan). In 2000, the scrambling was removed, allowing for more precise readings.

Now, according to my (albeit small) research, _Yu Gi Oh!_ is copyrighted 1996. Since Seto was sixteen in the first episode (at least of the Japanese version, which is of course the only one that counts for things like this), and he is seventeen in this story, than logically speaking _Stranger Danger_ takes place in 1997. Therefore, GPS would still be scrambled. Since Seto's a genius with satellites, however, I'm guessing he would have redesigned his own model.

Wow… That big long explanation for a few paragraphs at the end of the chapter… (anime sweatdrop) Ah, well. Don't you feel all educated now?

* * *

"I don't understand, Carlson. What does it all mean?" 

"It's simple, ma'am. They used a _satellite_."

"And…?"

"Mr. Kaiba makes his livin' off of workin' with satellites. It's how Duel Monsters is played nowadays. Kaiba Corp. has numerous satellites up in high orbit; they monitor every duel that's played and send holographic projections of each card that is activated down to the playin' field."

"But how does that help us?"

"Mr. Kaiba designed those satellites personally. He _knows_ satellites, and he knows the systems necessary to do the kind of things that they did. By hackin' into all the satellites in the area, he can pinpoint which ones were used on the car, and which system gave 'em the orders."

"And that will tell us who did this?"

"At the least, it'll tell us which computer was used to access the system, and that gives us a huge lead into this whole mess. If we're lucky, it'll guide us right to their base."

"And thus right to Mokuba?"

"Bingo."

* * *

Seto Kaiba sat straight-backed in his laboratory, his every being fixed on the task at hand. His ears dimly perceived the sounds of Carlson explaining their new break to Joan, but their voices were meaningless noises to the CEO. Though he heard every word, his brain gave them no meaning. 

He waited impatiently for the computer to give him an analysis of the satellite receiver. Each satellite had a specific signal; as soon as he learned which signals had been sent to and from the receiver, it would be ridiculously easy for him to track where they were had been sent from. While it was possible – even probable – that the kidnappers didn't send the transmission from wherever they were holding Mokuba, it would, at the least, be a clue as to the boy's whereabouts.

It would be more than he had now.

Finally, after what seemed like ages but was really only a few minutes, the scanner turned up a result. His eyes eagerly scanned the data that the monitor was displaying for him. There… and there. A string of numbers that would have been meaningless to anyone else told him what he needed to know.

In a flurry of movement, his fingers began typing commands into the keyboard in front of him. The screens sprung to life as they obeyed his instructions, isolating the string from the rest of the figures and further analyzing it.

Seto studied the information that came back to him. The string was the identification number of the satellite that had been used to relay the commands to the remote, thus allowing the enemy to steer the car and attack his brother. According to the search his own systems had performed, it belonged to a small, nondescript computer company known as Dark Star Enterprises.

He frowned. He had heard of Dark Star only once or twice, and the news was never anything substantial. He wasn't even sure what they're specialties were, who own them, or where their headquarters was based.

He shook his head, shifting to face another of the computer monitors. The satellite's owner didn't matter; the owner wasn't necessarily the one who had used the satellite.

He swiftly hacked into the satellite's system, bypassing the minimal security that had been set up – it was no wonder someone had been able to use it for their own malevolent purposes – and accessed the list of the most recent places to have sent signals to the satellite.

There were two of them. The first was Dark Star Enterprises' headquarters; he paid this one no mind. The second…

Was from a handheld device that had, at the time of the call, been located several miles away from the outskirts of the Domino City. In other words, in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place to hide a kidnapped twelve-year-old. He leaned back in his chair in satisfaction, smirking.

"Sir?" Carlson stepped up behind him, looking at the screen and then down at his employer's face.

"Carlson." The CEO gestured at the screen. "Mark those coordinates and prep the limo. We're going for a ride."

* * *

Seto frowned in frustration, gritting his teeth together. It didn't make _sense_. 

He was standing on the edge of an old cornfield that, from the looks of it, hadn't had anyone caring for it in years. According to the satellite, somewhere in that field – near the exact middle, unless he was mistaken – was where the signal had been sent from.

He had been expecting to find, somewhere in the midst of all that wasted agriculture, a building, a warehouse, an old farmhouse, _something_ that might be being used to hold his brother. There was nothing. They had already searched the field twice, and, though probing through corn higher than one's head was admittedly difficult, their efforts had turned up no results.

"Mr. Kaiba?" Carlson came up behind him, looking weary. He was followed by Joan and Willy, who both looked just as tired. Seto had refused to allow more people to come. Mokuba's kidnapping had been the result of corruption somewhere among his staff in the form of an agent placed there specifically for that purpose. He didn't want to take even the slightest risk that that would happen again during their rescue attempt.

The teenager turned to face them, his trench coat flapping – it was extremely windy – and raised his eyebrows at them.

"What do we do now, sir?" Carlson asked, correctly translating the look into, "What do you want?"

"We keep looking, Carlson," the CEO replied, his tone flat. "Until we find something. Anything."

The goon traded a look with Joan. "Sir… I don't think there's anythin' to find."

Seto glared. "What are you insinuating? That there was something wrong with my analysis?"

"No, sir, I think the lead was right enough. But it's a dead end. There's nothin' here."

"It's the only lead we have, Carlson. There _must_ be something – at least another lead," Seto said quietly. "We're just missing it." He whistled, calling Willy to his side, and trudged back into the cornfield.

The wind died down as soon as he was fully in the field, the corn protecting him from its fierce blowing and giving him a minor relief. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the GPS he had brought. The GPS, or Global Positioning System, was a small device only slightly larger than his cell phone that could tell him his exact position in the world at any given time. He switched it on and began to determinedly stalk towards the coordinates the signal had been sent from.

Though most GPS's were purposely set up to give coordinates that were a few meters off from where the holder really was (supposedly for security reasons), Seto, who was never satisfied with "almost," had long ago reprogrammed the device. Before long, he was standing in the exact spot that his enemy had been over a month ago as they plotted his brother's downfall.

Someone had _clearly_ been there. The corn was trampled from where they had walked, as well as from the two times that Seto had stood here before. The problem was that this was the _only_ sign of their presence.

Seto looked around despairingly. He was losing hope. The chances that this was a dead end were high, and he wasn't naïve enough to not acknowledge that.

He was also determined that there was _something_ he was missing. He might not be naïve, but he also refused to give up on his brother.

His blue eyes narrowed as he carefully searched every bit of ground around them. He had followed the trampled paths his adversaries had left behind already, but he combed them over yet again.

There was one thing that was troubling him. He followed a line of broken cornstalks away from the small, manmade clearing that they had sent their signal from. This was the third time he had walked this path. Every single time, it had ended in the middle of the cornfield. Just like that: as if the men who had made it had been beamed up by aliens. There was no trail connecting them to the edge of the field.

He reached the end of the trail, kneeling down to get a better look at the faded tracks. Willy began sniffing in the cornstalks around him. Joan walked quietly up behind him. He could hear Carlson searching somewhere in the distance.

"What are you looking at?" Joan asked.

"…It doesn't make sense," he finally muttered.

"…I know you were counting on this lead, Seto, but–"

"It's not that," he interrupted. "It's… this." He gestured. "This trail. It doesn't make sense. It just ends. Where did they _go_?"

His mother frowned, her eyes narrowing. "That _is_ odd." She came forward, treading carefully along the path.

She walked past where he knelt, up to the area Willy was so interested in. Suddenly, she froze as a hallow sound filled the air.

Seto stiffened, his eyes widening slightly. He leapt to his feet, whirling around to face her.

The sound had been caused by Joan's foot hitting the ground, a sound that should not have been heard on the solid earth of this field.

"Do that again," he ordered.

Slowly, Joan raised her left foot, bringing it down hard against the ground. The same hallow _thunk_ reverberated through the air… as if the area beneath her feet was not earth at all.

Seto gave her a slow, triumphant smirk, then turned to summon Carlson. "Carlson!" he beckoned the goon. "Come here!

"We've found it!"


	18. Enter the Lair

Disclaimer: I've been trying to earn the money to buy the rights to _Yu Gi Oh!_ by selling hair gel to anime characters, but for some reason my money keeps turning into manga. By magic.

* * *

It was dark: dark and quiet. The shadows seemed to wrap around his chest, squeezing his lungs. He had been in this place once before, after his failure in Duelist Kingdom. Pegasus had sent him here, claiming to have stolen his soul, and however loudly he denied the fact, he had never been able to think of another explanation. 

The dark had been terrible to him, since. It was fine, sitting in front of the glowing screen of his computers, but in the middle of the night when the nightmares descended and he heard the maniacal laughter once more, darkness had become a thing of bad dreams and bad memories.

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he fought against the urge to cry out. He was terrified of screaming without sound to answer him. Had he been sent _there_ again?

No! No, he could feel solid earth under his feet and cool air chilling his clammy skin. He could hear breathing around him. He closed his eyes in determination; this was no place to have a panic attack. This was no place to be afraid of the dark.

He reached into his coat pocket, his fingers groping for the matchbook that he had placed in there several hours before. It was a good things that he hadn't gotten around to taking it out yet. He clasped his hand around it, pausing a moment to stop his shaking, and withdrew the book, pulling free a match and lighting it with a hissing sound.

Seto Kaiba glared as the faces of Carlson and Joan were suddenly thrown into existence. The three of them and Willy had searched for nigh on half an hour, trying to find the entrance to the underground compound that Joan and Seto had discovered. Finally, their search had been rewarded; Carlson had opened the door to the secret building and they had filed inside.

The door had swung closed behind them with a thud, leaving them in silent, unbearable darkness.

Seto wasn't sure how long it had taken him to recover from his sudden paralysis, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on the occurrence. "Did either of you think to bring a flashlight?"

"I've got one, sir," Carlson answered, and though the match was too dim for the CEO to see what he was doing, he could hear him groping around for something.

"Hurry up, this match is almost–" he cut himself offwith a hiss, dropping the match as it burned his fingers. "Out," he finished dryly, reaching to strike a new one.

A half minute later, Seto had happily replaced the matches in his pocket as Carlson switched on a small flashlight. The goon shone the light slowly around them, and the three of them tracked its movement, taking in their surroundings.

They appeared to be in a nondescript, small, manmade cavern. The walls, floor, and ceiling were smooth, made of a dull gray stone that told them nothing of its origins. Then the light flashed to the far corner and stopped as its controller and his companions stared in surprise at what was displayed in its light.

"Holy son of a…" Carlson murmured. Joan had nothing to say; she frowned at the device, her eyes narrowed in an unreadable expression.

Seto merely raised his eyebrows. "Well. That's an elaborate doorbell if ever I saw one."

It was a gong, akin to what might be found at a temple or an emperor's court. It was perhaps a half a meter in diameter, not very big for an instrument of its kind. A mallet, obviously used for striking the golden disk, hung on the wall beside it.

They stared for a moment more before Carlson finished the sweep of the room. There was nothing else there.

The light returned to the gong. Seto stepped into the dim beam, examining the disk carefully. There were no inscriptions carved or painted upon it or the wall. The mallet, too, appeared to be ordinary.

He touched one long finger to golden surface and then reached over to take the smooth handle of the mallet. He hefted it; though he knew next to nothing about such things, he could tell that it was expertly made. Craftedfrom an unknown but obviously high quality material, it was evenly balanced, not top-heavy at all, and it seemed natural to bring his arm back in preparation for a swing.

"Seto! What are you doing!" Joan suddenly cried.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked with forced patience, lowering his arm as he turned back to glare at her.

"We have no idea what that will do! It could alert our enemies to our presence, it could trigger a trap, _anything_ could happen!"

"True," he admitted, lowering his arm. "Tell me, do you have a better idea?"

With silence as his only answer, the young businessman nodded, and before either of them could think of an alternative, brought the mallet crashing into the gong.

A resounding, full sound echoed through the small room. Willy let out a yelp as his sensitive ears were stung, and Joan and Carlson quickly covered their ears. Seto was too busy clutching his hand; the mallet had vibrated upon impact, sending a strong, _painful_ shockwave racing through his fingers and up his entire arm, causing him to drop the offending object and hiss in pain.

The pure note the gong had released, which sounded almost like the crystal tone of a finger run along the rim of a wineglass, though its pulsating pitch was much deeper, seemed to hang in the air, not dying as logic wanted it to. Slowly, another sound joined it, a whining, cracking groan that wove in with the tune and created discord.

When the noise finally faded, hands were lowered and eyes were widened in amazement. Where there had been naught but blank wall scarce five minutes before, there now stood a doorway. Leading down into the dull light that shone from within was a stone stairway, stretching into the abyss.

Seto narrowed his eyes at the doorway. Joan glanced at him, wondering if he would gloat at finding the way inside, but he said nothing. He placed his hand on Willy's head, calming the dog, and strode through the door without looking back, his trench coat sweeping behind him.

Joan and Carlson traded a glance and followed after him.

The stairs seemed to continue forever, but eventually they reached the bottom. They found themselves in a dimly lit, damp stone corridor that smelled strongly of mildew. Seto was already stalking down it, the golden retriever pressed close to his side as if prepared to protect him from whatever lay ahead.

Joan and Carlson hurried to catch up to them.

"We should stay together, Seto," Joan chided.

He grunted. "Then keep up."

Carlson chuckled, but said nothing.

It was some time later before they spoke again. Joan, who had been watching their surroundings carefully, spoke quietly. "We've been walking for over a mile now."

Seto ignored her, but Carlson nodded in agreement. "We're not in – _under_ – Domino anymore."

"...The tunnel is sloping up," Seto finally put in. Sure enough, they could detect a gradual upwards trend to the ground beneath their feet. Furthermore, the corridor was noticeably drier, and the air was fresher than it had been at the start.

"Best not to go any further without bein' armed, then," Carlson suggested. He stopped, drawing a pistol from a holster on his belt. Without hesitation, Seto followed his example, revealing a similar firearm tucked inside of his coat. Joan blinked at this. She hadn't known that he carried a weapon, but she supposed it made sense. A businessman of his status was sure to have acquired enemies who weren't above sending someone to attack him. Shrugging it off, she crouched down and pulled a tiny handgun from her boot.

Seto and Carlson stared at her. She stood and raised her eyebrows at them. "What, are you the only ones who are allowed to walk around armed?"

Seto's eyes were narrowed at her. "It's not the kind of thing one expects from a civilian."

"You're point?"

His eyes narrowed further. She wasn't meeting his eyes; she was hiding something. She was hiding _too many_ things. "Just who the hell are you?"

"Your mother," was the calm reply.

"Yes, I got that part. That's not what I meant."

"...We should find Mokuba," she said quietly.

He glared at her for a moment more before giving a curt nod and continuing down the tunnel, his hand gripping his pistol as if it were a lifeline.

They hadn't walked for another ten minutes before the tunnel came to an abrupt end. It opened out into a gigantic cavern. The room's ceiling was too high above their heads to make out. The dim light from their tunnel lit only the first few feet of the grotto; there was no other source of light.

Seto stepped up to the edge of the light, peering into the darkness. Willy was close behind him, his ears pricked forward as if listening to a distant sound.

"Sir?" Carlson inquired. "D'you–"

"Shh," Seto interrupted, his eyes on the dog's reaction. Then, very quietly, "Someone's coming."

Soon, they heard the sound that Willy had already picked up on: footsteps. Slow, deliberate footsteps that were coming in their direction. All three humans raised their weapons. Willy's hackles were up and his lips curled back into a silent snarl, yet no noise came from him, as if he, too, sensed the need for quiet.

A tall figure suddenly loomed out of the gloom. Joan heard Carlson gasp and saw Seto stiffen slightly out of the corner of her eyes. Most of her attention, however, was focused on the man whose facial features could only just be made out. Where had she seen him before...?

Suddenly her eyes widened as a stray memory flicked across her consciousness. An old photograph crumpled into a ball, golden tongues of fire staining its edges black, then consuming it entirely...

But... that couldn't be right...

Yet her fears were confirmed when the man spoke in a calm voice that sent shivers up her spine.

"Hello, Seto. It's been awhile."

And Seto's reply, which somehow seemed to hold anger, hatred, fear, and exhaustion all at once:

"Hello, Gozaburo."

* * *

A/N: Yes, my stories Seto is both afraid of the dark (They stole his _soul_, folks. If you think he could walk away with that and not be scared, think again.) and trained to use a weapon. Explained why in the story. 


	19. All the Pieces

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a handful of ideas, a spark of talent, an inflated ego, and an army of evil green gerbils that will hunt you down if ever you try and steal this story.

* * *

Seto Kaiba stared at the man in front of him, not wanting to believe what his eyes were insisting was true. 

Gozaburo Kaiba was dead. Seto had watched him die. Twice. Yet this wasn't a disembodied soul trapped forevermore in a computer system, searching for a way to return to the world of blood and flesh that it had long been denied. This was his adopted father, undeniably real and in the flesh, watching him with that predatory, mocking look that he had been so adept at.

It made his head spin.

The teenager suddenly became aware that his finger had tightened on the trigger of his gun; any further pressure and a shot would be fired. He couldn't remember moving his hand; he made no effort now to lower his arm.

Behind him, he could hear a startled gasp escape from Joan. Carlson, true to a bodyguard's nature, was silent, but Seto could bet that his weapon wasn't the only one pointed at Gozaburo. At his feet, Willie's snarls were no longer silent; a quiet growl drifted from between the dog's curling lips and barred teeth, mingling with the ringing in his ears.

Wait a minute... That wasn't his _ears_ that were ringing...

His eyes widened imperceptibly as a sudden thought struck him. Slowly, his shock and horror faded, replaced with a smirk similar to the one that adorned the other man's face.

"You're looking rather smug for someone who supposedly died over a year ago," Seto drawled, keeping his weapon directed at this menacing phantom. He was enjoying being in a position that he had dreamed of years before, with only the faintest pressure of his finger between Gozaburo and death.

"You're looking rather proud for a total and complete failure," Gozaburo quipped back.

Seto's jaw twitched; he withheld a scowl only because he knew it would give his enemy pleasure. No longer enjoying himself, he lowered the gun and replaced it in his coat; he wouldn't need it for this. "I'm not a failure."

"Aren't you?" A sneer. "You, a scared little orphan who was so weak as to turn my empire to make _games_," he said the word like a curse, "who was defeated by a nobody, who can't even protect that sniveling excuse for a brother that used to mean so much to you, you think you can honestly claim to have _earned_ the Kaiba name?"

Seto's voice was quiet, yet it echoed throughout the room. "It was enough to defeat you."

"But you haven't defeated me," Gozaburo hissed in a tone just as quiet, yet dripping with acid. "I'm right here."

"Are you?"

Silence greeted his words.

Seto stepped forwards until he was scant inches away from him, looking down at the man who had been the pivotal point in his life...and his pain. It was almost amusing how the figure who he remembered towering over him was now almost a full head shorter than he was. He had known this for awhile, ever since they had met in Noa's twisted mockery of reality, yet it had never really sunken in. Gozaburo had always remained a pillar of all that must Seto strive not to be, a towering shadow that he constantly had to fight.

"But I don't have to worry about you anymore," he whispered, eyes alight with triumph.

"And why is that?"

Seto lunged forward, grabbing onto the collar of Gozaburo's shirt, deceptively real under his fingers. "Because you're not real!"

Time seemed to stand still in silent tableau, the only movement that of Gozaburo's steadily widening eyes. Then his image shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, drifting to the ground like a defeated Duel Monster, and Gozaburo was no more.

No one moved for what seemed the longest time. Finally Joan, her tone a mere murmur, asked, "What was that?"

"A hologram," Carlson answered, sounding awed.

Seto half turned to face them, kneeling down to stroke Willie's head. The dog had ceased growling; the buzzing in Seto's head had stopped, as well.

"How did you know?" Joan asked him.

"The buzzing," he answered.

"Buzzing?"

"Buzzing." He glanced up, then rose to his feet as he explained. "It was a flaw in the earliest hologram generators that Kaiba Corp. produced. We were able to solve the problem in later models, but older systems – and most reproductions that our competitors create – still retain the defect. It was an unnecessary distraction for duelers...and, luckily enough for us, a dead giveaway that the image was a hologram instead of reality." He smirked, then frowned. "Gozaburo... Whoever's behind all of this sure did their homework."

Carlson opened his mouth as if to add further comment, but he was cut off as a quiet, ominous chuckle reverberated through the room.

Willie's ears went back; he began to growl again. Seto whirled around, trying to find the source, but it seemed to be coming from all directions as once.

A sickly smooth voice replaced the chuckle. "Well done, Mr. Kaiba. I knew you'd be able to see through my little game." There was mockery in the stranger's tone.

Joan's voice was deathly quiet as she spoke; only Carlson, standing beside her, could hear her. "I don't suppose there's any change that's a hologram?" She knew there wasn't.

"I suppose you're here for the little Kaiba, aren't you?" the voice continued.

"Where is he?" Seto called back, his tone demanding an answer.

"I'm sure you'll find him, bright lad that you are. And once you do... Then, the _real_ fun can begin."

The voice laughed again, and Seto shouted something that couldn't be heard over the echoing tones. The malevolent chortling faded away into nothingness again.

Seto turned back around, his face livid. However, before he could speak, another sound rung through the room.

It was a scream.

Seto froze, his eyes widening. He knew that scream.

Once more, he whirled around, adding his own cry to the terror-stricken, pain-filled wails. "_Mokuba!_"

And then he was running, sprinting headlong into the darkness, not heeding Willie's anxious barking or his companions yells to slow down, to stop, to return to them. He ran blindly into the shadows, his gun in his hand once more, determined to find the source of the screams, and to destroy whatever it was that had given his dear little brother reason to make such a sound.

* * *

Mokuba was staring at a puzzle. 

He couldn't actually _see_ it, but it hovered in his mind's eye, all the pieces laid out before him.

One piece was Fear. Fear was in place. He thought he could remember a time, not so long ago, when Fear hadn't had a place in this puzzle that was his life. But that didn't fit the puzzle anymore; now there was just Fear.

Another piece was Helplessness. Helplessness was in place. He no longer made an effort to fight back against the jeering men that tortured him so.

Torture: that was the third piece. Torture was in place. This was the room of Torture; these were the men of Torture; he was the victim of Torture.

Yet another piece, Torture's kin, was Pain. Pain was in place. He screamed as Pain shot through him, tearing at him, shredding him, demanding that he give in. He did so; many sessions with Torture had taught him that doing otherwise only brought more Pain.

All the pieces were in place, yet somehow he seemed to be missing something. It was as if there was a hole somewhere, an emptiness that his puzzle could not fill. This Missing Piece, he instinctively knew, was the antithesis of his other pieces. If he could find it, he felt sure that the Fear, the Helplessness, the Torture, the Pain would disappear. They would be vanquished by his Missing Piece, no longer to trouble him. If he could find it, other pieces would follow, pieces that he no longer had a name for. All the pieces, all the _right_ pieces, would come together again, and his puzzle, for all it would be without Fear, Helplessness, Torture, and Pain, would be whole.

But Pain ripped through him again, and he couldn't remember.

Suddenly, there was a change. The Torture and Pain stopped; Fear and Helplessness were still there, he felt, but somehow they weren't affecting _him_ this time. There was shouting around him, and a loud crack like a gun being fired, and his puzzle shattered.

Something warm was holding him, wrapped around him, murmuring to him. Mokuba whimpered; his cries were soothed.

And all the pieces came together again.


End file.
